


The Force Divided

by floatingkhoshekfloats



Category: Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Luke, F/M, Force Awakens AU, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jedi Finn, Jedi Hux, Jedi Leia Organa, Like nothing you've seen before, M/M, Nightmares, Princess Rey, Psychic Violence, Threats of Violence, bounty hunter snoke, but it's gonna be good, darth phasma, literally everything is different, set in the Star Wars Universe, stormtrooper kylo ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatingkhoshekfloats/pseuds/floatingkhoshekfloats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the defeat of the Emperor, the Galaxy needed a new leader. They looked to Leia. Guided by her mother and a Jedi long since gone, Leia, and Luke, worked to restore the galaxy, but evil is not easily defeated and the Dark Side cannot be destroyed. After Luke inexplicably turns to the Dark Side, forcing Leia to oppose him as well as the First Order he joined. But then a young princess gifted in the Force is discovered, someone who could turn the tide in the siblings' war, if she could be swayed. But Princess Rey is not easily persuaded and each side's agents have their own agendas. And stretching overall is the pressing question: what turned Luke?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Princess Becomes a General

**Author's Note:**

> the most alternate AU to AU, but it's gonna be good. I guarantee it'll be a wild ride at least.
> 
> Inspired by this poster/post: dameron-skywalkerr.tumblr.com/post/143656716070

The princess first dreamed of her mother a few weeks after the end of the Empire. Not the mother she had known, the kind queen with sparkling eyes and a loving smile, who had raised her, but the one who had died long before Leia had ever known she had existed. She understood why she dreamed of her now; she knew of her now, knew of her birth father now, her brother now. It was knowledge that came tempered with grief and devastation, but she would not grant the title of father to the monster, despite his ten minutes of contrition. Father was a name that only belonged to Bail.

But Mother… Leia’s brother knew less of their mother than Leia, but some searching had unearthed more knowledge than Leia had realized she’d had. She’d heard much about Padme Amidala from those who had known her, but had never realized her own connection.

The first dream Leia could barely recall, but an incredibly melancholy feeling had followed her for the entire day. But the second, the third, all the ones that followed, she remembered with startling clarity, more clearly than she remembered some waking conversations. They were simple dreams, simply sitting with her mother in a lovely garden by a lake and talking, but her mother spoke with such conviction, such passion, it resonated inside Leia long after she woke.

She began taking her worries to her mother, her qualms about rebuilding a galaxy and flushing out the powerful remnants of the dark Empire, her doubts about being able to do it. The Rebel Alliance was still so small, the Empire so far-reaching. How could they bring about its true end even with its Emperor and Death Star destroyed. (And Vader. Vader was certainly dead too.) Even for a woman who had decided to fight it at its height, it was overwhelming.

But Padme would smile and dole out advice, encouragement, and always hints, hints at something more. The Force, Leia understood, something she’d always known at some level was a part of her, even before Luke’s revelation, but Padme suggested it was more than just a part of her.

“I’m a politician,” Leia had argued. “A senator for a planet that no longer exists. Luke is the Jedi, not me.”

“Why should it only be one of you?” Padme asked. “You are both so very like your father, as he was. And you, my little Ikopi, have the very best of him within you.”

“I’d rather have the best of you. You didn’t become a monster.”

Padme had smiled, then pulled Leia in close to bestow a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Perhaps I was not given the time to. But being like your family doesn’t matter, so long as you are, above all else, like yourself. Be true to who you are and then go out and defend liberty.”

Leia had lain awake for a long time after that dream, turning her mother’s words over in her head, and when she’d reached a decision, she turned to Luke.

“Teach me the ways of the Force,” she asked him.

He agreed without hesitation, teaching all he had learned, was still learning from the ghosts of Jedi that had come before. It was only when she discovered one of those Jedi was Anakin, their father, that she stopped training. And a direct visit from her father’s Force-Ghost only cemented her decision. She could not forgive him for the travesties he had wreaked across the galaxy, but especially not for Alderaan. Dying heroically did not acquit him of that.

So she turned to her mother again, poured herself into politics, but sometimes, sometimes a low voice would come to her, gentle and rumbling as a distant thunderstorm and a present rain. A friend, her mother assured her, who had died long, long before, Obi-Wan’s teacher.

And with the voice of a Jedi Master in her mind and her mother’s wisdom in her dreams, Leia found her balance, and found her way. With two Jedi at the helm of the Rebellion, one a political master, soon the Empire fell in, one planet at a time, until at last the New Republic arose. No one was surprised when Leia was elected to its head, named Chancellor, though those who didn’t know her were taken aback when she was also granted Republic Command.

There were murmurs of concern, that the New Republic looked too much like the fallen Empire, but the majority of the galaxy praised Leia’s appointment, a war hero, a princess, a senator, a general, a Jedi. Who better to lead them all to peace and prosperity? Who better to defend their liberty and fight for justice?

Who better to sense the growing darkness in her brother and intervene before he disappeared?

But in that, Leia failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way! shoutout to my spectacular beta reader Nightwing11 and go check out her stormpilot and stucky fics! They're excellent!!!


	2. Short Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jedi Master Finn and his Padawan Hux go to the girl known as the Force Princess, hoping to convince her that her life is in danger, but things get complicated when First Order agents arrive, including a bounty hunter named Snoke and a stormtrooper known only as BN-1983.

The two Jedi waited on the round veranda with varying degrees of patience. Master Finn, dark-skinned, clean-shaven, and surprisingly fidgety for a Jedi Master, tapped a finger against his lightsaber as he surveyed the veranda and its view of the planet’s copper sea. Despite his constant movement, he was relaxed, standing confident and patient in his brown robes.  
His straight-backed, red-haired, pale-skinned Padawan, however, stood squarely and unmoving but with considerably less patience, his bearded face twisted in a near sneer. Though Hux was nearly ten years older than Finn, he’d come into the Jedi life later, and despite his rigid self-imposed discipline, he didn’t have the same skill, or sensitivity to the Force. But he believed in the Jedi Code with all his heart and his loyalty to the Jedi Chancellor was unquestionable. He was a good Jedi, if rigid in his beliefs, Finn always thought. He just needed a little more time.  
“This is taking too long,” Hux declared. “We should have been received immediately. We are Jedi on a diplomatic mission from the Jedi Chancellor herself.”  
And patience, Finn thought.  
“The princess is a busy woman,” Master Finn answered.  
“I thought her life was in danger.”  
“She has a planet to run. Be a little patient. She’ll be here soon and then we’ll be back home before you know it.”  
“You think she’s going to simply agree to leave her home without offering some resistance?” Hux asked, one eyebrow lifting.  
“Hell, Hux,” Finn replied, shooting his apprentice a quick look. “You make it sound like we’re kidnapping her.”  
Hux snorted faintly, eyeing the seascape, his spine somehow straightening even more. Times like this, Finn couldn’t help but think Hux might have been a soldier in another life. “I didn’t realize her refusal was an option.”  
“Of course it is,” Finn replied, “We’re just going to strongly advise against it. Seeing as the First Order wants her dead and all.”  
Hux scowled. “Yes, and if she refuses, we’re going to have to stay here to protect her, aren’t we, Master? I hate negotiations.”  
Finn fixed his apprentice with a hard stare. “Look, Hux. This is all going to be short and simple. We meet the princess, convince her to come with us to safety, and take her back to Leia. And I wouldn’t call them negotiations.”  
“Back to Leia?” a soft voice repeated from behind them, and they turned toward the door to see the princess herself wearing an expression that rather denied Finn’s optimism. “I don’t know why precisely you’re both here, but I’m not leaving.”  
Princess Rey, a fair, muscular young woman in a soft yellow dress, her brown hair arranged in complicated buns, planted her hands on her hips. She stared down the two Jedi until Hux stepped forward to acquiesce to her not leaving, and Finn realized she was using the Jedi mind trick. The shock of that realization was enough to free him from it.  
“Hey!” he protested, shaking off her efforts and tugging his Padawan back. “At least hear us out! This is about your life. You’re in real danger.”  
She scoffed. “From the First Order? Darth Phasma is hardly a threat to me. I appreciate the Jedi Chancellor’s concern, but I’m completely fine here. The both of you can go home.”  
Finn frowned, his forehead furrowing as he stepped toward her intently. “The First Order is no joke. They’re vicious and they’re dangerous and if they want you dead, you’re dead unless you have some powerful help.”  
“I think I can take care of myself,” Princess Rey replied. “It’s Master Finn, isn’t it?” He nodded and she continued. “I don’t need the Jedi and I don’t need babysitters. I have things well in hand here.”  
“Princess--” Finn began.  
“Rey.”  
“Rey,” he amended. “Look. I know you wanna do your own thing here and I respect that. You’re ruling a planet and doing it really well.”  
Hux’s eyebrows drew together. “How on earth would you know that?”  
Finn waved him silent, still fixing his gaze on Rey. “But the First Order is...It’s more dangerous than just Darth Phasma.”  
She narrowed her eyes, head tilting slightly. “What do you mean?”  
Hux leaned toward his teacher. “Master, I don’t think the Jedi Chancellor wants her to know--”  
“Luke Skywalker is with the First Order,” Finn said.  
Hux blew out a breath and shook his head. Rey’s eyes widened and she looked between the two of them for a moment.  
“Luke Skywalker?” she repeated incredulously. “The Jedi? But he went missing years ago. I thought he was a myth.”  
“Not missing and not a myth,” Finn said. “He went to the Dark Side.”  
She shook her head. “That’s not possible. He overthrew Darth Vader.”  
“Yeah, he did, but then--”  
The door suddenly slid open, one of Rey’s guards stumbling in, wide-eyed and frantic, clutching her injured arm. They heard distant blaster fire and shouting that the door had blocked out.  
“Princess!” the guard exclaimed. “It’s the First Order! They’ve attacked!”  
Rey gasped, touching the woman’s face and checking her wounded arm. “How many? Are you alright? How were we not warned?”  
“Don’t worry about me, Princess. You have to get to safety. We’re being overrun!”  
The blaster fire raged closer, now joined by small explosions.  
“I’m not abandoning you,” Rey said, but then Finn grabbed her hand and pushed the guard out the door. “What are you doing?”  
“We’re getting you out of here,” Finn stated, nodding for Hux to take point. The guard fell back to watch their flank, blaster in her good hand, as they started running down the corridor away from the veranda, but Rey yanked her hand free.  
“Let go! I’m not running away from them!”  
“Rey, you can’t face them,” Finn replied just as a blaster bolt slammed into the wall just past them.  
The group looked down the hall to see a squadron of stormtroopers stalking toward them.  
“The princess. There she is!” one of them called in a mechanicalized voice.  
Rey’s guard stepped between them and Rey and fired on them, taking out two with an equal amount of shots. Then Finn grabbed Rey’s hand again and they ran.  
“I can run without your help,” Rey snapped.  
The group sprinted down the corridor, blasters firing behind them. As they darted around a corner, Hux twisted around, swiping his hand through the air and tossing the vases that decorated the hall at the stormtroopers before continuing after the rest. But then they skittered to a halt as they spied another squadron of stormtroopers marching toward them from the opposite end of the corridor.  
Finn scanned the length of the hall, but it was void of doors, just windows facing the copper sea. He pulled his lightsaber free with resolve, Hux doing the same and each of them taking up a position on either side of Rey and her guard.  
“This is ridiculous,” Rey said as the stormtroopers closed in, their blasts deflected by the two Jedi, her guard crouching protectively over Rey and sending retaliating shots.  
“I’ll clear a path to the shuttle,” Finn said. “Hux, cover me, then go with the princess.”  
“We’re stronger as a group, Master,” Hux protested.  
“This is a weak tactical position,” the guard said. “We have to move or we’re going to die. Your Highness?”  
Rey met the guard’s gaze, then nodded and splayed her hands toward the window, the Force rippling away from her and shattering the window. “Out that window!” she ordered.  
Finn could think of a dozen reasons why not, but with the overpowering blaster fire, well, he pushed Hux toward the window. His Padawan grimaced, then leapt, followed by the guard.  
“Go,” he told Rey, but she just grabbed his hand and pulled him with her, both of them leaping together into the unknown.

#

BN-1983 strode anxiously beside the bounty hunter Darth Phasma had sent to retrieve the so-called Force Princess. The bounty hunter, Snoke, paused at an intersection of corridors, looking strangely resplendent in a royal guard uniform. BN-1983 felt awkward in his own stolen uniform, wishing for his stormtrooper armor instead. It fit him and dampened the effect of his height, letting him blend in with his comrades.  
The golden uniform was too small for him, his long, pale limbs poking too far out of the sleeves, only adding to his gangliness, and he didn’t like his head uncovered. His comrade stormtroopers poked enough fun at his constant adolescent look and unruly hair. They’d laugh themselves senseless to see him now, pretending to be a royal guard, just like he pretended to be a proper stormtrooper.  
But he still tried, tried to be as skilled as the rest of them he’d been raised with. The First Order was his entire life, the stormtroopers his only family. He’d do anything to be worthy of them.  
Even infiltrate the royal palace of the Force Princess with an unscrupulous bounty hunter who didn’t follow orders, only filled contracts.  
“Straighten up,” Snoke commanded, his voice far deeper than his height and narrow frame would have suggested.  
BN-1983 squared his shoulders, wishing he understood Snoke’s obsession with him. Ever since Snoke had taken to giving the First Order exclusivity with his contracts, his eye had fallen on BN-1983. Whenever he took a job that required even just one other person, he always requested the hapless stormtrooper, even though BN-2015 or any of the FN designations were far more suited to doing anything. Really, it was a wonder that BN-1983 hadn’t been removed from the ranks. Sometimes he felt that Snoke had something to do with that and the idea didn’t sit well with him.  
At Snoke’s signal, followed the bounty hunter down the right-hand corridor then down a lift into a service bay. Snoke nodded and BN-1983 hurried to the bay doors, punching in the release code and opening the large doors. Two inconspicuous food service transports whispered over the ground and inside. BN-1983 closed the doors again as the drivers disembarked and opened up their cargo, revealing the reason BN-1983 and Snoke had infiltrated the palace: three squadrons of stormtroopers.  
One of the drivers, BN-2015, called Crash among their corp, spotted BN-1983 and waved him over.  
“Doing alright, Eighty-three?” Crash asked.  
BN-1983 bobbed his head, the rare nickname easing a level of tension that had been growing in him since the mission had begun. “Be glad to put the armor back on.”  
“Yeah, you look like a shaved Bothan,” Crash laughed, then reached into the transport, pulling out a crate and handing it over. Inside it held BN-1983’s stormtrooper armor.  
The two of them changed out of their disguises, trading the golden uniforms of the palace for the sturdy, white armor of the First Order.  
“Can’t believe we always get stuck with Snoke’s missions,” Crash commented in an undertone.  
“They’re better missions than most corps get,” BN-1983 replied. “I’ve heard they’re ordered by the Sovereign One himself. Especially this one. It’s an honor.”  
“I guess that’d explain why a bounty hunter gets to order stormtroopers around.” Crash paused, glancing at BN-1983 while they were still helmetless, gauging his expression.  
BN-1983 knew what answer he was looking for--why was Snoke so interested in him--but didn’t have any answers and just tugged his helmet on.  
“We should line up,” he said, then left his corpmate behind to stand with the other squadrons forming up before Snoke. Moments later he felt Crash come stand beside him and Snoke ordered the first squadron, including both BN-1983 and Crash, into the lift.  
They had their orders. Capture the Force Princess alive. Kill any resistance. Strike fast and hard.  
The lift rumbled upward and BN-1983 gripped his blaster more firmly. Then the doors opened and the squadron marched out, striding through the palace to the place they knew from Snoke and BN-1983’s intelligence the princess would be. And when they met the first palace guards, they annihilated them without hesitation.

#

To Finn’s great relief and surprise, they didn’t plunge into the copper sea or crash into rocks as they fell from the shattered window. They didn’t even fall very long, landing on a ledge he doubted he would have seen from the window. Then Rey was tugging him against the ivy-bedecked cliff and then through it, the ivy parting around them and ushering them into a narrow passage already occupied by a disgruntled Hux and the guard.  
The guard stepped forward immediately, pulling Rey away from Finn. “Princess. Are you alright?”  
“Perfectly,” Rey promised, then gently lifted the guard’s arm to examine her injury. “Is it bad?”  
“It’s fine, Princess.”  
“We’ll treat it as soon as we can,” Rey promised.  
“Let’s get you safe first,” the guard said, looking up at Finn and Hux. “I presume you two flew here.”  
“We have a shuttle,” Hux answered.  
“A shuttle,” the guard sighed. “How grand. We need a ship or the First Order will have us before we’re even through the atmosphere.”  
Rey offered, “If we can get to the hangar bay, we can take the Star-hopper. That will outfly anything they brought short of a TIE fighter.”  
“The hangar is a long way from here.” The guard shot Finn a look. “Where’s your shuttle? Hangar or the landing pad?”  
“Pad,” he answered.  
“That’s closer,” the guard mused. “We could actually reach that.”  
“What good will it do us if--?” Rey replied, then they all froze as they heard trooper voices outside the tunnel.  
“No, I know she’s here,” a trooper said on the other side of the ivy. “I can...I just know.”  
“Well, you knew about the ledge, Eighty-Three,” another replied, then louder, shouting up to the stormtroopers not on the ledge. “Keep looking. The rest of you, to the loading bay. They’ll try to use the Jedi’s ship.”  
Rey pushed Finn, herding the group of them along the rough tunnel. They hurried along as quietly as possible, turning a corner before breaking into a run. Only a few turns later and the tunnel ended in a door. Rey hurried forward, punching in a code that granted them access to a small lift. Finn saw them all inside and closed the door.  
“So hangar bay then?” Finn said.  
Rey glanced at him sternly, but he saw amusement glitter in her eyes. “At least the way should be a little clearer.”  
“What is this tunnel?” Hux asked, casting an appraising look over the lift.  
“Escape route, in case of attack,” the guard said dryly.  
“We seem to be using it backwards.”  
“It’s called improvisation.”  
Hux narrowed his eyes slightly, but Finn saw a definitely upward twitch of his lips and grinned briefly at his Padawan. But then the lift stopped, the doors parting to reveal another door. Rey swept it aside with a brush of the Force and Finn drew his lightsaber, stepping out first, extending his awareness out for danger.  
It was clear. The four of them set out, Rey jogging beside Finn as they navigated through the palace, only having to backtrack to avoid stormtroopers once. The biggest difficulty was getting Rey to keep going whenever they passed the bodies of her people, golden uniforms scorched from blaster fire, faces frozen in shock or pain. Only Rey’s guard kept her going, whispering in her ear and tugging on her arm until, dashing away her tears, Rey ran onward, jaw set in grim determination.  
But as far as opposition, they encountered none. Finn should have realized as they reached the hangar that things were going too smoothly. They raced inside, scanning briefly for danger, then sprinting toward the Star-hopper at closest to the hangar doors.  
And then blaster fire rained down on them.  
“Get back! Get back!” Finn shouted, lighting up his saber and brandishing it in defensive swirls, deflecting away the bolts. He heard Hux’s lightsaber turn on as the four ducked behind a stack of crates.  
“It’s a trap,” Hux scowled.  
“I hadn’t noticed!” Finn snapped.  
“So what’s your plan, Master?”  
“We’ll use the Force,” Finn said and Hux glared at him. “You cover our flanks and--What?” Finn cut himself off as the guard and Rey rushed past the Jedi and out into the open. He chased after them, robes billowing behind him. “Princess! Rey! Get back here!”  
“This is a stunning disaster,” Hux commented, before the apprentice followed his master into the fray.  
The women ducked and darted from one piece of cover to another, the guard snapping off quick shots that always struck their targets, while the princess dragged cover toward them or sent projectiles hurtling toward the stormtroopers with the Force. All the while, they worked their way closer and closer to the ship.  
Finn had to admire their strategy and how well they worked together. He wondered briefly if they’d trained together regularly, before focusing on his own fight. Troopers converged on them, three riot control troopers coming in close, their electrical, two-pronged batons sparking dangerously.  
Master and Padawan stood back to back, their blue and green lightsabers ignited. And then as the troopers charged, the Jedi attacked. Finn raced forward, lightsaber flashing. It met the closest riot trooper’s baton, the weapons bouncing heavily off one another, but Finn had prepared for that and spun, swinging the blade again.  
They clashed, the trooper keeping up despite Finn’s Force-enhanced agility, until Finn shoved the trooper away with a blast of Force and then flung his lightsaber after him. It sliced through the stormtrooper and boomeranged back into the Jedi Master’s hand in time for him block the second riot trooper’s attack.  
He sprang backwards, landing near Hux who battled with focused precision, nose wrinkled in a near snarl as he cut through the surrounding ranks. Finn spun to deal with the third riot trooper, then flinched, catching a glimpse of the second trooper out of the corner of his eye. But before he could respond, the trooper hurtled past him, buffeted clear across the hangar.  
Wide-eyed Finn turned and spied Rey, her arm still outstretched. Then the last squadron of stormtroopers entered the hangar, led by a man who looked like a bounty hunter of all things.  
“I do hate to point out the obvious, Master,” Hux said, “but we are screwed.”  
Finn wouldn’t have admitted it, but they were indeed, very screwed.

#

Rey saw the new squadron charge into the hangar and sighed. She’d been hoping to keep some secrets from the Jedi, but they were here for her and she would be damned if anyone else got hurt, or killed on her behalf because she was holding back. No one else died today, except stormtroopers.  
She reached into the special fold of her dress, pulling out a handle, not unlike a lightsaber handle--until she pressed a button and it telescoped out into a staff almost as tall as she was. She whirled it around, meeting her guard’s eyes. Her guard sighed faintly, but then nodded and shot down a stormtrooper behind Rey.  
Rey closed her eyes, then moved a switch on her staff, igniting the yellow, double-ended, two-pronged blades of her lightsaber. The nearest troopers slowed, and Rey smirked. Didn’t they know they’d attacked the Force Princess’ home?  
But then she leapt, springing into the fight and clearing a wide swath, her guard watching her back, as she made her way to the Jedi. Finn nearly dropped his lightsaber when he beheld hers, but then an incredulous smile crossed his face. Rey sent him a brief smile, before refocusing and closing the gap between her and the two Jedi.  
“You didn’t follow me,” she chided as the four battled back the stormtroopers.  
“You didn’t warn me,” Finn replied.  
“They’re cutting us off from the Star-hopper,” Hux put in. “With flame-troopers. A fair amount of them. And some heavy artillery.” He shot the guard a look. “You’re not some secret Jedi, too, are you?”  
She aimed the blaster at him and he ducked with wide eyes when she fired, twisting around to see a stormtrooper go down.  
“No,” she answered, then looked to Rey. “He’s right though. We need to make our move. Now.”  
Rey nodded, tugging on Finn’s arm, and the four of them charged into the thickest collection of troopers. They were nearly there until several grenades connected with the Star-hopper’s most vulnerable places, explosions rocking the ship. The four flinched back.  
“You have another ship in here, right?” Finn asked Rey.  
“Uh, sort of,” she replied, then pivoted away from the Star-hopper and toward a ship in the corner mostly obscured in canvas sheets.  
“Oh no,” her guard exclaimed.  
“It’ll definitely work,” Rey promised.  
Hux grimaced. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said, but either no one heard him or no one paid him mind.  
The bounty hunter rose up before the four, dodging the Force push from Rey, and firing his high-powered blaster in retaliation. Rey gasped and knocked the bolt away with her staff, then sprang toward him.  
“Rey, no!” Finn called, but Rey ignored him. This bounty hunter came onto her planet, into her home, and attacked her people, and expected to get away with it?  
She closed the distance between them, forcing him to abandon his blaster in exchange for a vibroblade. The bounty hunter grinned, meeting her blows with shocking skill. But he was not the Force Princess. Rey bared her teeth, striking harder, faster, shifting the upperhand to herself.  
Blaster bolts zipped past her head, too close for comfort, breaking her focus long enough for the bounty hunter to kick her in the chest and send her careening into the ground.  
“Rey!” Finn shouted, before his path was blocked by a flame-trooper.  
She caught a glimpse of Finn’s Padawan running to her, when the stormtrooper who’d distracted her, fired again, one, two, three blasts slamming into the Jedi. The redhead went down and Finn roared.  
Rey stared wide-eyed at the downed Padawan, at Finn’s screaming face, the leering smile on the bounty hunter’s. She saw it all with stark clarity, the stormtrooper’s slack arm, loosely gripped blaster-rifle, how he leaned back, the shine of triumph in the bounty’s hunter’s eyes, the barely contained fury radiating dangerously through Finn and he fought to reach them, the sweat glimmering on her bodyguard’s skin as she struggled to keep fighting despite her injury, and the pain she could no longer conceal. The faces of her dead people ricocheted through Rey’s mind. All this destruction, for her? Because of the greed of the First Order? Because of her arrogance?  
Rey wrapped hold of the emotions, every single one of them, gathering them in tight until they hurt, until tears slipped down her cheeks for the overwhelming crush of them, and then with a scream she let them loose. The Force gushed away from her in a hurricane of power, barreling through the trooper’s ranks and knocking them down or tossing them away. Only Finn and the stormtrooper who’d attacked the apprentice Jedi remained standing. Even her guard had fallen.  
The princess struggled to her feet, shaking with effort, but pushing that away. She jerked her hand at the stormtrooper, bearing the influence of the Force on his mind. “Take him to the ship and do no more harm!” she commanded gesturing to the Padawan.  
The stormtrooper hesitated and she pressed harder until he finally stepped forward in compliance. She gasped for breath, staggering faintly, but shaking herself and turning to her guard. Finn was there, staring at Rey with a thousand silent questions that she couldn’t answer, but when the stormtrooper swept the whimpering Padawan into his arms and bore him into the canvas-covered ship, Finn just helped the guard upright, slipping under her arm.  
“We need a pilot,” Finn said. “Hux always flew us.”  
Rey tucked her lightsaber away and strode determinedly toward the ship. “We’ve got one.”  
Finn glanced at the guard. “Her?”  
The guard smiled weakly. “Tell a girl what she can’t do…”  
On the ground, the bounty hunter stirred, struggling to his feet, but Finn kicked away his blaster and the guard kicked him in the face. Then they hurried as fast as they could after the princess.  
Rey staggered through the curved corridors into the cockpit, pointing toward a ladder off to the side. “Finn, do you know how to work a turret?”  
“Uh...I’ve used a blaster before,” he said.  
“Same principal,” she said. “They won’t be down long and I’d rather not have them take out our external thrusters or the power module. There’s a lot of exposed parts.”  
“What is this junk heap?” Finn asked as he sat the guard down on a curved bench in front of a round, checkered table.  
“Her restoration project,” the guard said. “Hurry. I’ll talk you through it. Mind you, the chair’s a bit wiggly.”  
Finn frowned, then hurriedly checked on Hux on another bench, being stared at by the stormtrooper they’d abducted. Hux grimaced in pain, but at least he was alive.  
“You alright?” Finn asked.  
Hux groaned, leaning his head back against the wall. “Well, you were right about one thing, Master.”  
“What’s that?”  
“The negotiations were short.”  
Finn smiled, then glared at the stormtrooper. “You better take care of him..”  
“Finn!” Rey called, the ship shuddering to life.  
Finn gave the stormtrooper a warning glare, then glanced at the guard. “Shoot him if he does anything.”  
“My pleasure,” the guard said.  
Then Finn scrambled down into the gunner’s seat as the discus like ship lifted off the ground and veered drunkenly toward the hangar opening. It jerked as the stormtroopers started firing on it, then scraped against one wall, then the ceiling.  
“Have you ever flown this thing before?” Finn demanded, letting loose return fire on the stormtroopers.  
Rey flicked switches, head bobbing in concentration. “No,” she replied, but she’d studied it, rebuilt it from the ground up. She knew how to fly it. It was just...clunkier than she’d expected. And she was dizzy, the Force blast leaving her drained.  
But she managed it, careening the ship once called the Millennium Falcon into the opposite hangar wall, then lining it up and zooming out of the hangar just as several grenades were launched at it. They fell short, the ship blasting into the air and hurtling toward the atmosphere.  
It burst into the black of space and Rey just managed to make the jump to hyperspace before she collapsed unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Things are about to get crazy, friendlies.
> 
> And thanks again to Nightwing11, my lovely, delightful beta reader! (she writes great stuff, go check it out!)


	3. Things No One Can Fix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia is informed of the aftermath of the First Order's attack and must face the possibility of coming face to face with the man she loves and has lost, Han Solo.

The aide quietly entered the Jedi Chancellor’s meeting with her war council, waiting by the door as Leia organized the latest retaliation against the First Order and how best to get to relief to planets already under its control. Resplendent in cream robes, her greying hair in a neat coil around her head, Leia looked every bit the princess she had been born, but with something more, unnameable to the aide, but to the Force-sensitive, it was clear and obvious. She wore the Force wrapped around her like a dress, radiating power and grace and command. Every member of the council hung on her words, making careful notes and polite suggestions when warranted until decisions had been made. But then Leia gestured to the aide, summoning her forward with a gentle smile.

“Is it news from Takodana?” Leia asked.

The aide nodded nervously, glancing at the council, and Leia sent them off. They had work to do now. Talking had accomplished all it could for this moment. 

“Is it Finn? Did he speak with the princess?”

The aide bit her lip. “Master Finn has gone missing, as has his Padawan, and the princess.”

“Missing? How?” Leia asked, her forehead furrowing. She had not felt any great changes in the Force, certain she would know if Finn had joined with it permanently.

“The First Order attacked the Kanata Castle,” the aide said. “They still occupy it, but intelligence suggests they might be abandoning it.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“It’s unclear.”

Leia turned away, head bowed slightly as she thought. If Finn, Hux, or the princess had been taken captive, the First Order would have left immediately, even from so great a prize as the Kanata Castle. Unless they had attacked with a large enough force to keep some in occupation while the rest returned to their primary station. Their movements would have to be tracked, that much was certain.

“Master Leia, but there’s more,” the aide interjected hesitantly.

Leia looked up. “Tell me.”

“The Millennium Falcon was spotted leaving Takodana.”

Leia’s heart stopped for a moment and she clasped one hand into a fist as if reaching for something--someone--no longer there.

“No one can confirm when it arrived--”

“But who is piloting it?” Leia interrupted, the desperation in her voice startling the aide used to a much more composed Jedi.

“We don’t know. There were no sightings of Han Solo, but…”

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t there,” Leia said with a sigh. She closed her eyes for a moment then said, “Send a relief unit to Kanata Castle, but make sure they have fighters with them. If the First Order doesn’t leave by choice, we will force them out. Get word to the queen, anyway you can. She hasn’t contacted me in years, but she still may.”

The aide nodded, but only took a step back. “And the Falcon?”

Leia shook her head, waving the woman away. “We need to find our missing Jedi first, and help the aftermath of the attack as best we can.”

“What will you do if it is Han Solo, Master?”

Leia gazed at the empty chairs around the holotable in silence for a long moment, then simply said, “See that it’s done, please.”

The aide gave an awkward half bow and then left the Jedi Chancellor to her grief that never left her. Leia leaned on the table once she was alone, eyes shut tight, the aide’s question rolling through her head.

What  _ would _ she do if it was Han? 

He’d been away for so long, and serving the First Order too. She would never have thought him capable of sinking that low, but then, Luke had stunned her too, and Han had always loved Luke, even if he hadn’t admitted it to her. It was why he had never married her, though she’d asked him to. He’d claimed that “a scoundrel like me isn’t meant to do all that official nonsense” and she’d let it go because he loved her. 

She was certain of that, even now. No matter what happened, she knew that he would love her always. What she was not certain of, was whether he would love her most. Leia had replayed the moment he had left through her head a million times, but she still couldn’t decide if it had been for Luke or for her son and Han’s. 

Losing little Ben had broken them both at a level she had not thought possible after losing Alderaan. She had done what she had done then, focused on the galaxy and the people who needed her. She could admit to herself that she’d failed to truly comprehend that Han had needed her, too, and she’d let him down. Maybe that was why he had gone after Luke.

_ What will you do if it is Han Solo? _

Embrace him and weep into his shoulder and apologize and rage at him? Leia had no answer, only a dozen possibilities that all floated before her like dust motes in moonlight, just barely tangible, but always gone when she tried to grasp one. Sometimes there were things no one could fix.

Taking a heavy breath, she dialed the comlink, after a moment summoning up the blue haloimage of Jessika Pava, the leader of her elite starfighter squadron.

“Jedi Chancellor,” Pava said with a salute. 

“The mission was compromised. Master Finn and Hux are missing, as is the princess.”

“Understood. Who do you want us to track down?”

“The Millennium Falcon. It was spotted leaving the planet. And no, we don’t know who is flying it.”

Pava rubbed the back of her neck, looking away, and nodded, but then she asked, hesitation and regret mingling in her voice, underlining the hard edge of anger, “Could it be Dameron?”

Leia sighed. “It  _ could _ be Princess Rey. We don’t know, but I’m counting on the Black Squadron to find out and bring that ship home, with or without its pilot.”

Pava nodded slowly, then straightened and saluted again. “Yes, ma’am. We leave as soon as we’re assembled.”

“May the Force go with you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The image flickered out and Leia set the comlink down, then after a moment’s thought, sat down on one of the chairs. She leaned back, closing her eyes and breathing slow and deep. Perhaps she couldn’t do much from here except give orders, but she could at least get a sense of her Jedi's well-being. 

Letting the Force wash over her like a waterfall, Leia let her fear slip away. It took longer than it had in the past, the mention of Han raising up fears she had not had to quell in some time, but a reminder that fear came from the unknown and the unknown was vanquished through discovery, helped her let all of that go. Her fear, her worry, her anger at the bickering politics, at herself, at Luke, her tiny sprig of jealousy, her deep grief that never filled, all of it slipped away.  

One slow breath after another, she released her emotions, following the current of the Force as it ebbed and flowed through every living thing in the galaxy, racing with it across the stars and the voids, flooding through people and plants and creatures, each one a part of her, she part of everything, until at last she felt herself to be a troubled mind, a pained one, and one overwhelmed. Three separate but connected selves all part of a single Force but temporarily divvied into individuals, like fingers slipped into gloves. She was all three at once and also neither of them as much as she was everything at once and none of it. She was the stars and the air and the pulse of every life, even the one--there--extinguished, or--there--born again and for the first time. She was--

Leia.

Daughter of Alderaan, wielder of the Force, uniter of the galaxy.

A princess and a general and a Jedi and a Chancellor.

The daughter of a Jedi and Sith both, of a senator and queen both.

Daughter of Bail and Breha.

Sister to Luke.

Mother to Ben. 

Herself and only her. 

Leia pulled back into herself with a gasp, gripping the arm of the chair with one hand as she let herself become aware of the reality around her again, of her own body and her own sense of self. The intoxicating pull of the Force drained away, leaving her once again Leia. She felt that she had almost lost herself to the Force this time, further than she ever had before, but she had her answer.

Finn, Hux, and Rey were alive, and together. Two were injured. But they were alright, all in all. And not yet out of reach. She would bring them all home safe. Whatever it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> And since you've reached the current end of this, go read some of Nightwing11's excellent work! She's my beta reader and the best. :)
> 
> Annnd you can still find me on tumblr if you want to read original work or other fics: floating-khoshek-floats.tumblr. com


	4. A Plot to Destroy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the other side of the galaxy, the Sith Lord Phasma is informed of Snoke's failed attack and recruits the First Order's best engineer to complete Snoke's mission. 
> 
> aka Poe Dameron has at last arrived!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note, violence, psychic violence, Force choking, and other Dark Side behaviors start in this chapter.

It was with great fear and nervousness that the First Order officer opened the door to the domed, inner sanctum. He took a shaky breath and forced his shoulders back with military precision, saying a brief prayer to his planet’s gods he had forsaken that he would not die this day, then strode forward at a clipped pace. Stopping twenty paces from the dark figure kneeling on the ground in front of the large statue that glowed faintly red, he saluted and waited. The red glow surrounding the masked statue intensified then faded and at last the first Sith Lord since the fall of Vader rose. 

Taller than most human men, and dressed in all black, her pale arms bare, Darth Phasma struck an imposing figure even facing away. A long, dark red cape with a metallic sheen hung from shoulders that were rumored to be strong enough to hold a trash compactor in place. And then she turned, hands resting on her two, curve-handled lightsabers on her hips, and the officer quailed.

Phasma’s angular face was undeniably beautiful, her short platinum hair cut away from it to emphasize the sharp lines, but stronger than the beauty was the clear shine of power. Her storm-blue eyes landed on the officer and she smirked, sauntering toward him with leonine strides. 

“Speak,” she ordered, continuing past the officer and out of the sanctum.

“The bounty hunter has reported in, my lord,” the officer said, following after her.

“Good. Tell him to return here in all haste. The Sovereign One has need of the girl.” She smirked again. “Though the Jedi will make excellent additions to my collection.”

The officer shuddered faintly at the mention of the Sith Lord’s collection, then braced himself to deliver the rest of the message.

“Snoke has failed, Lord Phasma.”

The Sith Lord stopped, then pivoted around, eyes narrowed as she towered over the officer. “Failed,” she repeated with crystalline syllables. 

“Yes, Lord Phasma,” the officer said, sweat sliding down his neck.

She flicked two fingers and slammed him into the opposite wall, just hard enough to hurt, but if there was one thing Phasma possessed, it was utmost control, even when at her most furious. But this wasn’t furious, this was...amused.

“After all his arrogance,” she said to herself, “and he dares to fail. I told the Sovereign One to leave it to me. Perhaps this time he will listen.” She crooked a finger at the officer, dragging him toward her with her power then holding out her hand. “Your comlink.”

The officer fumbled for it and handed the device over. She flicked it on with a lazy flourish and moments later a small blue image of the bounty hunter, Snoke, appeared. A flash of panic crossed his face and Phasma’s eyes gleamed.

“Snoke,” she purred. “I hear you have good news for me.”

She could see bodies strewn behind him, stormtroopers mostly, but the communicator couldn’t pick up much more. Snoke’s lip curled faintly and she blithely contemplated how satisfying it would be to crush his jaw some day. 

“Darth Phasma,” he said, clearly struggling with a deferential tone. “I do have good news.”

“Do you?” she said, eyes wide with anticipated glee.

“I’ve taken Kanata Castle.”

Phasma leaned back on one heel, lowering her eyelids to satisfied slits. “I didn’t realize you’d taken enough stormtroopers to keep it. Or kept enough alive. Does this mean that the queen is dead?”

“The queen has barricaded herself in the lower levels, but we’ll have her soon.”

“Of course, you will. And the princess? I trust she’s in hand?”

Snoke glared at her, but somehow remained calm, his deep voice slow as ever. “She will be. There was interference.”

“Of what kind, Snoke?” Phasma demanded, at last to the meat of the discussion. Playing was over and she wanted her report.

“Jedi. Two of them. Sent by the Jedi Chancellor to steal the girl first,” Snoke said, his voice rumbling through the comlink. “But they’re running wounded and...they made a mistake. I’ll have them soon enough, Lord Phasma.”

“What mistake?”

“They captured a stormtrooper. I’m tracking him and their ship as we speak, but he’ll bring these Jedi under our control. Have no doubt.”

“I have many doubts, Snoke, but I’ll have to wait for your incompetence to bring them to fruition. What ship are they aboard?”

Snoke hesitated and she could see him wanting to keep the information to himself. She pushed on him slightly even with the light-years between them, the Force applying pressure until he intoned, “The Millennium Falcon.”

Phasma’s head jerked up, eyes going past the transmission in thought, then she returned her attention to the bounty hunter. “When you fail, again, I will complete your mission. And then with the Force Princess under my control, the New Republic will shatter in the face of the power of the Sith, risen again.”

“You think you’re an equal to the Jedi Chancellor?”

“If I were given leave to go after her, the First Order would be the only order in the galaxy. And Snoke.” She slowly clenched her hand in a fist, following the lines of the Force straight to the bounty hunter’s physical form. He choked, a flicker of surprise on his face as she tightened the invisible hold around his throat. “Do remember that you work for me as much as the Sovereign One and I am far less lenient when it comes to failure.  _ I _ find you rather expendable.”

She pushed him to the edge of death, letting his vision go hazy, drinking in the gush of fear and bloodlust that echoed to her across the string of Force connecting them, then she severed the tie, relaxing her hand. Snoke coughed and stumbled, nearly dropping his communicator, then straightening. His hate washed over her like a warm wave and she smiled, basking in it, then just as he inhaled to speak, she shut off the comlink, and tossed it back to the officer.

“Attend to your work. I’m sure the general has things for you to do,” she said as she briskly strode away, leaving the officer to thank his gods that he had survived the encounter. Not all did.

Phasma left the sanctum far behind, descending through the First Order’s primary base of operations until she reached a relatively deserted section of the base, full of droid parts and bits of engines. The Sovereign One’s own ingenious inventor. Ingenious and insane. But Phasma dismissed such thoughts. Insane or not, he had crafted her lightsabers’ hilts and they had never failed her. She swept open the door before her, entering the engineer’s room. 

The man himself sat at a workbench, dark hair ruffled and unevenly slicked with grease. He sported a beard and curious gadgetry connected to the goggles over his eyes. Leaning over what looked like a metal hand, he carefully hooked a small circular piece to it while a box-shaped “mouse” droid skittering around the floor picking up dropped pieces and delivering them back to him. Quite a pile of junk had collected at his feet. The droid zipped toward her, close enough she could make out the tiny orange and white dot the man had painted on it, then it stopped, making a small error noise before retreating to hide under the engineer’s table, beeping and squeaking.

“Phasma,” the engineer chided without looking up. “You scared my droid.” Then he raised his head with a crooked smile. “But I guess you scare everyone.”

“Dameron,” Phasma intoned.

“Darth.”

“I have need of you.”

He grinned and stretched. “Great. I’ve been looking for something to do. You know the ventilation system in this place is huge. Like, physically huge. You could fit a person--”

“Fascinating,” she said dryly.

“I’ve been mapping it out. I mean, I think it could be a real--”

“Not interested. Come with me.”

Poe Dameron shrugged, pushing his goggles off his face and onto his head, then standing. “What does the mighty Sith lord need today?”

“My tolerance for your insubordination only goes so far, Dameron,” Phasma reminded him.

But Poe just grinned again, sauntering past her. “Oh we both know that ain’t true. I mean, I’ve done a tally and I’m the only one around here who’s had direct contact with you and hasn’t been Force choked. I’m curious why. Is it my pretty face or charming wit or, what is it? I gotta know.”

Phasma beckoned to him and dragged him back within inches of her. “Don’t get so cocky, Dameron. I would kill you without hesitation if you ceased to be useful to the First Order.”

Poe smiled crookedly, unconcerned about having been pulled across the room against his will, and winked. “Sure you would, but you’d miss me.”

She narrowed her eyes, then let out a breath of a laugh, and moved him aside with a precise brush of the Force. “Only for a moment and only for your oddity.”

“Oddity?” Poe echoed. “Is that any way to talk about a genius?”

“It’s the only way to talk about a genius,” Phasma said, starting down the hall with Poe beside her. He whistled and the mouse droid skittered after them. She heard and shot Poe a sharp look. “The droid stays.”

“What are you talking about, the droid goes,” Poe replied.

“No, the droid is not going.”

“I say the droid goes.”

“Dameron.”

“Darth.” She glared at him and he scooped up the wheeling box, holding it under his chin and widening his eyes as he walked backward in front of her. “Lord Phasma, how can I possibly leave little, defenseless Squeaks behind? Listen, he’s quaking.”

Phasma’s glare did not lift. “I ought to crush you  _ and _ the droid.”

“Well, see who fixes your lightsabers and your ship next time you break them.” He smiled triumphantly and set the mouse droid back down. “What’s so bad about a mouse droid anyway? Damn useful little things.”

“I hate those little toaster ovens,” she scowled as they stepped onto a lift. Squeaks circled Poe’s ankles once, then zipping to the corners of the lift, searching for scraps and trash to deliver to Poe.

Poe laughed. “I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds like a great insult. I’d love to say it to the general’s face. Just for reaction, you know?”

Phasma’s eyes widened faintly at the possibility, but she held back the small huff of amusement.

“So....what need did you have of me, Phas?” Poe asked.

Her eyelids dropped in distaste, fingers drumming along her lightsaber hilts, but she merely said, “I need you to track something. A ship.”

“Alright. Alright. What ship am I tracking? Or do I get to guess that part, too?”

“The Millennium Falcon,” she said, watching him from the side of her gaze as he flinched. 

“I...that ship’s been missing for years.”

“Only because it’s pilot wouldn’t give up its location.”

“What did we need that junk bucket for? You’re not telling me you suspect Han Solo of, of treachery, do you? Of all people. I mean, I know he’s not like the most...fanatic of the First Order, but he is loyal to the Sovereign One without a doubt.”

“I suspect everyone of treachery, Poe Dameron. Including you.”

Poe glanced away, then raised his eyebrows. “Well, that’s a shame. Here I thought we’d really reached a special place, you and I. Spiritually or...”

She glared at him.

“Or not. Well, at least Squeaks trusts me. And the Sovereign One, I might add.” Poe crossed his arms then, leaning back against the lift wall. “Why the Falcon now?”

Phasma looked at him, a faint, malicious smile on her face as the lift stopped and the door opened. “It’s been seen.”

And then she strode out of the lift without waiting for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Nightwing11, my splendid beta reader, who i might have traumatized with my plans for Poe. Sorry about that, friend.


	5. A Tremor in the Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The current crew of the Millennium Falcon assess their options, but things go afoul when they're unexpectedly pulled to a mysterious planet that Finn knows first-hand is teeming with evil. Meanwhile Hux gets acquainted with his attacker, BN-1983.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylux shippers, now is your moment. Also featuring BB-8!!

Rey woke from uncomfortable dreams she couldn’t remember to find herself lying on a bunk in one of the sleeping rooms of the Millennium Falcon, one of the few sections she hadn’t had to rebuild. Though she did wish she hadn’t put off updating the bunks so they were at least comfortable. She sat up, her head aching, though not from any Force causes that she could think of. It didn’t worry her though. Not when she’d been in a fight and probably fallen out of the seat upon passing out. 

Settling her feet on the floor, she noticed a brown heap of cloth bundled into a pillow where her head had been. Touching it, she realized it was the Jedi Master’s robe. Rey blinked, surprised, then smiled and stood, gathering the robe in her arms. 

She opened the door just in time to see Finn disappear at the end of the short, curved corridor. Tentatively, she followed, pausing at the bend when she heard her guard speak.

“How’s your Padawan?”

“He’s...well, he’s still criticizing my every move, so he’s doing rather well,” Finn said with a small laugh. “Even after taking three blaster bolts to the chest…At least they didn’t go  _ through _ him, but...” Finn sighed. “Well, I think he’s going to be okay. He’s resting.”

“And the stormtrooper?”

“I’ve restrained him.”

“Did you leave him with your Padawan?”

“Well, yes,” Finn said, “but I gave him some stern words. And Rey’s persuasion still seems to be affecting him. Unless he’s defecting.”

“That’ll be the day. Though it’d probably be wiser to keep him somewhere isolated.”

“Where? I don’t know this ship and somehow I doubt it has a detention level. Listen, I took care of it. And if he tries to hurt Hux again, or any of us, I won’t hold back.”

The guard didn’t answer that and Rey heard the bench cushion squeak faintly as the Jedi sat. Then after a moment, her guard said, “I’ve heard that the Jedi Chancellor can heal people with the Force.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she can.” A pointed silence followed and then came Finn’s tert reply. “Do I look like the Jedi Chancellor to you?”

“I suppose your hair  _ is _ too short,” Rey’s guard replied.

Finn chuckled. “Yeah. Did you have any luck contacting the Senate...or anyone?”

“No,” the guard answered. “I guess the princess hadn’t gotten that far in the rebuild.”

“She isn’t how I expected.”

“What were you expecting? A young version of the Jedi Chancellor?”

“No. I don’t think so anyway. I don’t know what I was expecting. Certainly not someone so trained in the ways of the Jedi. How does she know how to use a lightsaber? I thought she was just Force-sensitive. Who trained her? Why isn’t she a Jedi?”

Rey knew she ought to reveal herself, but she was curious, curious to know what this Jedi thought about her, what sort of reputation she actually away from her small world.

“The queen trained her, of course,” her guard said. “Maz Kanata.”

“Maz Kanata?” Finn echoed.

Rey could almost hear the bodyguard’s eyebrow lift. “Who did you think lived in Kanata Castle? How did you think the princess became a princess?”

“To be completely honest, I don’t know,” Finn said, his voice soft but emphatic. “I came on this mission unprepared, I admit, but we had no time to, if we were to get to Rey before the First Order did. I’d heard rumors about Rey, but I didn’t know anything about her, really. I assumed she was seeking sanctuary with Queen Maz. That’s why most people go to Kanata Castle, isn’t it? For safe haven? With the First Order after her, I thought that’s what Rey had done.”

“Sanctuary? The Jedi Chancellor didn’t tell you anything, did she?”

“We were working off of limited information,” Finn protested. From his shift from an almost apologetic tone to defensive, Rey knew it was the jibe toward the Jedi Chancellor that set him off. “No one even knew if Rey was real until we tracked her Takodana. And even then, we were expecting someone with, with, I don’t know, not the level of Force power that she has.”

“Your Jedi Chancellor should be pleased then,” the woman said in a guarded tone. 

“This isn’t what she expected.”

Rey sighed and stepped forward to intervene. “Maz Kanata wanted to protect me from the First Order,” she said, the two of them turning toward her, her guard--her arm in a sling--starting to rise, but Rey waved her down. “She knew what they did to children, turning them into stormtroopers, into weapons. And one gifted in the Force? I’d have been turned into a Sith. So she kept me as hidden as she could. Maz is no Jedi, but she knows the Force. She wanted me trained in it as much as she could, so I could defend myself from people like the First Order, and she has a few centuries of experience there.”

Finn shook his head faintly in bewilderment. “But how did she find you? What about your family?”

Rey looked down briefly, biting her lip, but meeting his gaze with a grim smile. “I don’t have a family, except Queen Maz. She found me rummaging in the garbage for droid parts when I was a child. I tried to hit her with a pipe.” Rey fumbled with her dress’s hidden fold, pulling out her lightsaber. “This one actually. I thought she was going to hurt me, but instead she took me in and gave me a home.” She ran her thumb along the lightsaber before insisting, “I have to get back. Maz needs me.”

“You can’t go back,” Finn said. “Not with the First Order there. We barely managed to get away.”

Rey gave a rueful smile. “I know. Pretty disappointing for two Jedi, an elite guardswoman, and the ‘Force Princess.’”

“We were just surprised.”

“I didn’t know you could take Jedi by surprise.”

Finn frowned, then chuckled when he realized she was teasing. “I guess we’re not infallible.” 

Rey gave him a small smile, then turned to her guard. “Kass. How’s your arm?”

“The Jedi here isn’t any use at miraculous healing, but he knows his way around a medkit,” the guard said. “With a little help.”

Finn shuffled uncomfortably, mumbling something about Hux usually being the one to do all that. 

Rey smiled gently when she was assured that her guard would be alright, then remembered she still had Finn’s robe. She held it out to him. “Here. Thank you,” she said warmly, for the robe, for taking care of her guard, for all the rest.

Finn rose to accept it, but then paused, maybe noticing how tightly she held it, or the prickles along her arms, then turned his reach into an awkward lean against the wall. 

“Keep it. It’s kinda cold on this thing. I couldn’t find any blankets.”

Rey smiled again. “That’s because there aren’t any. Or at least none that I know of.” She hesitantly shrugged on the Jedi robe, letting herself imagine for just the tiniest moment that she was a Jedi before continuing, “This is an old smuggling ship. I’ve rebuilt almost all of it and I still don’t think I’ve found all the hiding places. In fact--”

Something clunked under their feet and they all flinched, looking down at the floor panels, particularly when they started beeping and whistling.

“Is that the ship?” Finn asked. “Wait, why does the ship sound like a droid?”

Rey frowned, then gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth. “BB-8!” she cried, dropping to her knees and hauling one of the floor panels up, revealing a deep compartment. Finn leaned curiously over her head to see a spherical orange-and-white droid, tip back its head and chirp at them.

“Oh, BB-8! I had no idea you were still on board! I thought you were galavanting around the castle and you were stuck in here the whole time?” Rey said.

The droid whistled at her.

“How did you get trapped down here?” Rey said. “What were you doing on board without me?”

BB-8 chirped a few times, then beeped almost sadly.

“Oh, BB-8, that’s really sweet of you. I’m so sorry it backfired. Let me get you out of there.”

She stood up, then using the Force, lifted the little droid up out of the hole all while it beeped and whistled away.

“You can understand it without a translator?” Finn asked incredulously.

“Of course. I’ve known BB-8 for years.”

Kass gave a soft laugh. “You are too easily bewildered for a Jedi Master, did you know that?”

Finn turned to reply, but was cut off by an insistent beeping from the ship.

“Is that the hyperdrive?” Rey asked, hurrying to the cockpit. “Where did you set the navigation for?”

Finn glanced at Kass and rushed after the princess, the round droid on his heels. “Nowhere. We thought you had. You mean we haven’t arrived at Hosnian Prime?”

“I didn’t set anything,” Rey answered, taking the pilot’s chair and quickly assessing the screens and toggles. “I barely got us into hyperspace at all.”

“So where are we then?”

Rey flipped a few switches. “I think it took us to the last place in the navigation log. If it hasn’t been reset.”

BB-8 beeped worriedly and Rey just raised her eyebrows and shook her head in an ‘I hope not’ gesture. 

Finn hovered over the copilot seat, Kass standing worriedly in the doorway. “Wouldn’t that just take us back to Takodana?”

“Not the way the nav system on this ship works, well, how it works at the moment.” BB-8 whistled a query and Rey said, “I’m still fixing it actually.”

Rey pulled a lever, the elongated stars shrinking back into brilliant specs as the ship slowed. The three all leaned toward the window, trying to get a better view of their location, BB-8 beeping inquisitively and shifting its head back and forth between the three. A cerulean blue planet entered their view, two moons just slightly still in sight as they began their pass around the backside of the planet.

Finn inhaled slowly. “That’s not good.”

“What is it?” Rey asked, glancing up at him. “The nav system is just calling it ‘Unknown World.’ How can it be an unknown world?”

“It’s not,” Finn said. “That’s Rakata Prime. I’m sure of it.”

“Rakata Prime? Why isn’t it listed by name in the nav system?”

“The old Jedi tried to make it as hard to find as possible. It’s a bad place. Very heavily steeped in the Dark Side. We should definitely  _ not _ go there. We need to turn around right away.”

Rey glanced at Kass, then looked at the Jedi, forehead creased. “Why do you know so much about it?”

Finn’s lips pursed and he cleared his throat, straightening up as if that would remove him from Rey’s increasingly more accusatory look, but that only put him in the line of Kass’ stare. He looked down and found even BB-8 eyeing him, waiting.

“I’ve been there,” he said, relenting. “Once. Master Leia and I went. We were…” He exhaled slowly and Rey could see the exhaustion in the lines of his young face. “We were looking for Luke Skywalker. Leia...she was trying to bring him home.”

“Did you find him?” Rey asked, a little eagerly, maybe, but she’d heard stories of Luke Skywalker since she’d been little, racing raced around the castle playing Rebels and Imperials with visiting children, always taking the role of Luke Skywalker, the unassuming hero with a noble heart and unmatched courage (unless of course she was pretending to be Princess Leia of determined vision and reckless valor). When Maz had begun to teach her the ways of the Force, Rey had secretly pretended she was Luke Skywalker, hero of the galaxy, first Jedi in a generation. Myth or real, he’d been her hero. She couldn’t believe Finn’s claim that Luke had gone to the Dark Side. Not the one who had overthrown Vader. 

Finn shook his head. “Not him,” he answered in a heavy voice that suggested a dark memory.

Rey almost asked further, but then looked away, gaze settling on the blue planet, so beautiful from here, but Finn was right. Even now she could feel it, the darkness that rippled beneath every turquoise ocean, sending out a resounding song she sensed in her bones, a foreboding dirge that threatened and lured with every silent note, calling for someone. She shook herself.

“So then, Hosnian Prime?” she asked.

“Now would be great,” Finn said and she was surprised to see him studying Rakata Prime with apprehension, no, more than that. He was holding it in, but she could sense in him that it was fear, true and pure. Whatever he’d experienced on the dark planet before them, it had lingered long after he had left, and perhaps would haunt him until he died. 

Rey looked away, licking her lips, then set the controls to prepare for an alternate course, but the ship merely groaned and jolted unsteadily.

“That’s not good,” Kass said, speaking for the first time since they’d laid eyes on Rakata Prime. “Is it the motivator?”

Rey shook her head, forehead furrowed in thought as she flipped switches and made adjustments. Then at last she sat back with a sigh. “It needs to rest.”

“It’s a ship,” Finn protested. 

“And it’s barely rebuilt enough to be flying at all, let alone as far as we’ve flown it. We’re in the Unknown Regions! We’ll never make it all the way to the Core planets without letting it rest a little.”

Finn frowned fiercely, shooting the blue planet a dark look. “We’re stuck here?”

“Just for a day. I’ll push her into Rakata’s orbit so she can go into low-power mode. Give her a rotation, and then she’ll be ready to go all the way to Hosnian Prime and the Jedi Chancellor.”

The Jedi Master looked like he wanted to argue, but at last nodded. “But just  _ one _ rotation.”

Rey smiled brightly. “I promise.”

 

#

 

Hux woke from a sedative-induced doze to find the stormtrooper still sitting on the opposite bunk, unmoved from before Hux had fallen asleep, helmet on, the medkit resting beside him ready for use. It had occurred to the older Jedi that he ought to be a little grateful the stormtrooper hadn’t had his blaster set to kill, otherwise there was no way Hux would have survived three bolts to the chest. As it was, he ached everywhere, sharp needles of pain throbbing in those parts in particular. But alive or not, Hux felt no need to be grateful to the stormtrooper. He’d probably just forgotten to adjust his blaster setting. 

But the stormtrooper had no blaster now. He was just First Order canon fodder. A tiny surge of pity fluttered through Hux, but he shoved that away with a touch of revulsion. Pity? For a stormtrooper? Though Master Finn would have suggested compassion, as was the Jedi way. 

Hux took a slow breath, then focused on the tenets of the Jedi for a minute before he snapped, “Do you have to wear that helmet?”

Maybe if the stormtrooper removed it, Hux would find him more human, would find more compassion. The stormtrooper didn’t move for a long moment, then hesitantly reached up and tugged off his helmet.

The man beneath was surprisingly young, but then Hux realized he wasn’t many years younger than Hux himself. He was just so used to being around Finn, a Jedi Master at twenty-four, that he’d forgotten how young he himself still was. 

But then more startling than the stormtrooper’s age was his face, long, angular, with black hair sweeping his face. Handsome. Hux shifted uncomfortably at that notice, but in a curious way, the stormtrooper was somehow handsome. Even though stormtroopers had no right to be handsome, or look frightened and unsure. They were stormtroopers, soldiers without mercy, the elite force of the First Order. 

Hux sat up stiffly, to better look his attacker in the eye, but the stormtrooper wouldn’t meet his gaze, wouldn’t look at anything but the ground. Tension filled the room as they both sat silently, staring at or near the other, both refusing to speak, but also refusing to ignore the person across from them. 

_ When was the last time a Jedi sat across from a stormtrooper in something this close to amicable? _ Hux wondered, even though he felt confidant he knew the answer. The Clone Wars before the fabled Order 66. 

“What is your name?” Hux asked finally, feeling compelled to say  _ something _ .

The stormtrooper looked up, then quietly said in a voice deeper than Hux’s, “BN-1983.”

A number. Somehow hearing that in place of any name shocked Hux more than anything else he knew about the troopers. But he wasn’t going to let it make him kind to a  _ stormtrooper _ .

“You’re the one who shot me?” he demanded.

“Yes,” came the soft answer. 

“Well, at least you can hit a target.”

Anger flashed in the stormtrooper’s eyes and Hux felt a brief measure of pride that he’d found a soft spot so quickly. Master Finn would be horrified, but Finn had never known desperation or weakness the way Hux had before the new Jedi Order, before the Jedi Chancellor, before Finn. Master Finn didn’t know how finding a weak point--and exploiting it--could be the only way you survived. Most days Hux could bury his ruthlessness, temper it down with strict adherence to the Jedi Code, but flickers of it always broke through. Sometimes Hux thought Finn could sense it, and Hux feared those times, feared the day Master Finn decided the flickers were too strident, too powerful, and would cast Hux out. 

Finn, though, wasn’t here now, and showing fear to a stormtrooper wasn’t an option, not when Hux was vulnerable and injured. He focused on the weak point and stabbed it. 

“Or was it just luck?” he added. 

“It wasn’t luck,” the stormtrooper snapped back. “It was…” But then he stopped, clearly unsure of what it had been, which meant that it probably hadn’t been skill. 

Hux snorted. “A surprise to all, clearly.”

“Surprised you,” the stormtrooper replied, startling Hux with the alacrity of his retort. Maybe there was more to this trooper than Hux thought. 

Information, Hux realized with a flash of inspiration. A stormtrooper will have information on the First Order. Maybe not much, but perhaps enough to be of use to Master Organa. 

“Tell me, Ben-1983--that is, BN-1983--”

“Ben,” the stormtrooper echoed, a look of bewilderment on his face. 

_ Oh no. I’ve named him,  _ Hux realized. “A slip of the tongue--”

“Ben,” the stormtrooper repeated in a murmur with more consideration. “The rest of my unit all had names for each other that we kept from the captain. Crash, Nines, Slip. I never did.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” Hux tried to protest, but really, he felt better with the stormtrooper named, felt less vulnerable, even more compassion. He felt like a proper Jedi. Master Finn would have named him. This was a scared creature, this gangly man in scorched armor, not a fearsome soldier. This was someone to be pitied, not feared. “That is, I didn’t mean to take away your...designation.”

“I like Ben,” the stormtrooper--Ben--said. 

Hux inhaled and shrugged. “Then...be Ben.”

“Am I your prisoner?”

“…Not exactly.” Hux didn’t actually have any idea what the stormtrooper was doing here. All he remembered was seeing him in a haze of pain, efficiently and unhesitantly tending to the blaster wounds. “Do you think you should be?”

“I’m a stormtrooper,” the newly christened Ben said. “I attacked you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Hux narrowed his eyes. Had that been an apology? Proof of a conscience? Stormtroopers weren’t supposed to have those. Hux found the idea uncomfortable, but at the same time…

“I’m going to correct that, somehow,” Ben continued.

“Correct...what?”

Ben looked up, licking surprisingly plump lips before he said in his deep voice that smashed consonants and emphasized vowels, “I was never...a very good stormtrooper. I don’t have the same...focus. I get distracted, emotional.” His eyes darted away. “Snoke would be proud I shot you. The general, the captain, Darth Phasma. They would all commend me, particularly if you had died. I would be honored, promoted. They would all respect me.”

Hux shifted, eyes shooting toward his lightsaber in reach, wondering if he could be precise enough with the Force to grab it. The stormtrooper didn’t have a weapon, but that didn’t mean anything for a stormtrooper. They were deadly armed or unarmed.

“But I’d still always be BN-1983 to them,” he continued and Hux stopped trying to unmovingly grab his lightsaber. “No matter how high I rose, I would always be just a soldier to them.”

“The First Order doesn’t see people,” Hux agreed cautiously. “Just weapons.”

“I don’t want to be their weapon,” Ben said, meeting Hux’s eyes. 

Hux straightened, holding his breath faintly, because of anything the trooper could have said, this was the thing was least prepared for. A defecting stormtrooper? But why? Because Hux had been drug-addled and misspoke, accidentally naming the man? Or had this been something a long time coming?

Or a trap.

Hux could not rule out a trap. 

“Then don’t be,” Hux said finally, watching him closely.

Ben stared back, mouth parting slightly in a hint of surprise, and Hux could sense the need for belonging in him, stronger than anything, powerful enough to hit Hux nearly as tangibly as a hand to the chest. Powerful indeed if even Hux with his weak sense of the Force could feel it so strongly.

_ His weakest point _ , Hux realized. Whatever this stormtrooper’s motivations, Hux knew he had his true weakness. If it came to it, Ben’s need to belong would be Hux’s weapon against him. If it came to it, Hux would destroy him. 

But only if it came to it.

 

#

 

The Falcon drifted quietly alongside the cerulean planet, only the softest of hums coming from the ship. Inside, the lights were dimmed or completely off, everything switched off that could be. The passengers slept, in one room, the Jedi and the stormtrooper, in opposite bunks, turned toward one another in distrust, though they both slept deeply enough. The little droid kept silent vigil in the corner, watching over the Jedi. In the other room, the Jedi master, the guardswoman, and the princess lay still and quiet.

But none of the passengers slept well.

The guardswoman had disorienting dreams of her strained childhood, a blood-stained hand touching her cheek, her comrades from the palace lying dead around her as her little brother tugged on her sleeve, a blaster wound through his throat.

The Jedi Padawan dreamt of his injury, again and again, each time the blaster bolts destroying more and more until they were brilliant crimson beams jolting across the galaxy, annihilating planet-sized Hux, Finn, and Leia, each of them shattering into tiny pieces while the stormtrooper stood across the sky from them, extending not a blaster, but just his hand. 

The stormtrooper dreamt of Snoke, a hundred feet high, holding him in an enormous fist.  _ You will do my bidding, _ Snoke rumbled.  _ I know who you are, boy. I know where you came from. _ And then Snoke released Ben, letting him fall and fall and fall the ground always opening up like a pair of doors at the last second, while a dark mask watched him.  _ All who gain power fear losing it.  _

For the Jedi Master, his sleep was plagued by hundreds of identical shadows, marching past him, sweeping him along with their ranks. The harder he tried to break free of them, the more he became one of them until all at once they stepped out into a chasm, the shadows marching on, down into the deep, endless void. But a hand gripped Finn’s, holding him back.  _ Look, Finn _ , Leia’s voice told him.  _ Look into it. _ And something writhed in the dark, a faint red glow emanating, revealing the slightest outline of something monstrous and serpentine. Its jaws stretched wide and the shadows marched on, dozens at a time descending into the creature’s mouth. Then it opened red eyes, its gaze boring into Finn’s.  _ Jedi, _ it hissed.  _ How I’ve missed you. _

But the darkest dreams belonged to the princess. A black ocean stretched away from her in a rush, on and on, a single island visible getting farther away with every moment, until all at once she sank beneath the waves, the water turning to dark sand, filling her nose and mouth, devouring her in pieces. She writhed against it, struggling for air, for movement, and found herself in an enormous, round chamber, kneeling before a statue that glowed a soft red. Focused hate stirred inside her and she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the statue’s polished surface. Her reflection stared back, dressed all in black, expression twisted into a cold sneer, a single bladed lightsaber in her hand. She ignited it and a red blade issued forth, power like she had never known flowing through her veins.  _ Save them all,  _ a voice whispered in her ear.  _ Save them with your power. _

With a cry of alarm, Rey clawed away from the image, the chamber constricting around her and releasing her into a cream room. A regal woman in white stepped forward--Leia, Rey somehow knew--extending her hand.  _ I’ve been waiting for you. Come. _ And Rey went, taking the Jedi Chancellor’s hand and following her along pastel corridors to a viewing room, a turquoise ocean outside the window, a silver throne in the center of the room.  _ This is your destiny _ , Leia told her, a low whisper echoing the words in an undertone as Rey ascended to the throne.  _ Save them all.  _

Rey sat on the throne and watched the galaxy spread out before her, the Core Planets, the Outer Rim, the Unknown Regions, all spiraling before her sight, beautiful colored marbles populated by billions upon billions of people and creatures. She could see how they teemed with life, could see the glow of the Force around and between and through every planet. She held out her hands, the entire galaxy coming to rest in her palms.

_ Protect them _ , a voice said, though it wasn’t Leia.  _ Save them all. Save them with your power. _

A soft breath could have blow every planet into pieces if she so desired. 

_ Princess. Queen. Empress. _

Her heartbeat was their heartbeat. The power could be hers. 

_ Goddess. _

Closing her hands around them could protect them from everything, from the unknown beyond the galaxy, from the dark tendrils seeping out of the heart of the galaxy. Alarm flickered through Rey as she noticed the rot, spreading. No. That wasn’t right. She pinched the source, planets disappearing as if they’d never been, but the darkness still oozed, infecting her galaxy. 

_ Rey _ , a soft, male voice murmured.

She tried to save what few uninfected planets remained, but the darkness spread too quickly. 

_ Let go, _ the voice urged.  _ Let go, Rey! _

“Rey!”

Electricity jolted through her and Rey jerked out of her sleep to find Finn shaking her arm, BB-8 at her side, a small taser aimed at her thigh. Disoriented, she snapped her gaze around, finding herself sitting in the cockpit of the Falcon. Outside the window, the ship slipped past the atmosphere of the cerulean planet and descended down through its clouds into the planet’s night.

“Turn it around!” Finn urged.

“I’m--I’m trying!” Rey replied, frantically trying to correct whatever she had done, but the ship refused to obey, none of the controls making the slightest difference as it descended. “Nothing’s working!”

“This is bad,” Finn stated.

“What happened?”

BB-8 beeped an uncertain explanation of Rey’s sleepwalking to the cockpit and how it fetched Finn, but it was Finn who had the deeper explanation.

“It’s this place. Bad dreams, am I right?”

Rey nodded, watching as the Falcon sped straight for an island in the middle of the dark, turquoise sea. 

“We should never have stayed here,” Finn said. “I knew it wouldn’t let us leave without a fight.”

“We’ll win,” Rey said firmly.

“We can’t. We can only hope to find a chance, and run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks again to Nightwing11, my delightful beta reader!


	6. Never Tell the Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe Dameron works on finding the Millennium Falcon only to have Darth Phasma make a new demand of him. Meanwhile Leia is getting "a bad feeling about this" and rushes to save Finn from an old enemy.
> 
> Featuring Ransolm Casterfo from Bloodline!!!!! Because Bloodline!!! (and I am too emotional about that book so I'm just ignoring the ending okay?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read Bloodline, fear not. Only very vague references to it and nothing spoilerific. 
> 
> Also, in which I discover the horizontal line button and abandon my little, industry correct # dividers, haha.

Poe Dameron sat alone in one of the command centers, his feet propped up on the control console as he idly watched the information flickering across the holoscreens. As he waited, he whistled some New Republic anthem that probably would have gotten him detained if he’d been overheard, but what could he say? It was catchy. And he’d always liked a good march.

His MSE droid skittered around the room, making tiny repairs to various consoles and bringing Poe any tiny object it happened upon: screws, nuts, broken bits of binder, chips, scrap wire, the occasional button lost off a First Order uniform. Once in awhile, Poe would glance down at the accumulating pile of things and poke through it, giving a handful of items to Squeaks to hang onto and dismissing the rest. Though, he’d still thank Squeaks for the whole pile, even if he only kept the smallest percentage of it. He was fond of his modified MSE. It did its best within its parameters, though no one had ever expected great things from a “mouse” droid. Not even Poe.

Poe had given up many things to join the First Order, not least of which was his old astromech. While Squeaks didn’t have the same personality--or actually any personality--nor the same level of functionality, nor anything his astromech had, the mouse droid was the closest Poe got to a friendly face. He’d given that up by his own choice. There came a time between choosing familiarity and doing what was right. And if people--if family--had to be left behind because they couldn’t understand that, then so be it. No, he could never have remained with the New Republic, no matter what he sacrificed to leave it, no matter what joining the First Order meant. He believed in what he was doing. Maybe the First Order’s methods were harsh, but they were efficient, effective. However, not so high on the whole “friendship” thing. Phasma was about the only one who had an amiable word for Poe, who saw him as more than “brilliant but ultimately a tool to be used.” 

Ironic.

He’d never go so far as to call them friends, but he’d call the two of them allies. After all, he’d seen Phasma drunk once and lived to tell about it. She was shockingly unrestrained and more than a little morose, but  _ that _ secret he would take to his grave. 

“No, wait, keep that one, Squeaks,” Poe said, noticing the droid about to destroy a scrap converter. “I need that, actually.”

The droid paused, then brought Poe the converter. He took it, patting the small droid briefly, before righting himself in the chair again. A converter would be handy. 

His hours of trying to locate the legendarily unlocatable Millennium Falcon had gone about as well as he’d expected, to say, horribly. He’d uncovered nothing but Squeak’s scrap heap, despite trying every filter imaginable and a few that hadn’t existed prior to his searching. He admitted to himself that if he appealed to the general he might have had better luck, but he liked seeing the general’s face when he did something a little impossible. 

Finding the Millennium Falcon would certainly constitute that. Poe had thought that with it on the move, the sensors might pick it up. Apparently, his good luck only went so far though. 

So he slung his feet down off the console and picked at the converter, modifying exactly what it converted. He rather thought he could use it to expand Squeak’s capabilities, supposing the one-note droid could  _ take  _ more modification, but it was worth a go.

And then all at once the scanners beeped.

Poe looked up, staring at the readout. One Corellian YT-1300 freighter blipped on his scanner, sitting way out in the Unknown Regions on a planet first stated as unidentified and then named Rakata Prime. He tapped the holo blip, half expecting it to disappear, but the signal stayed surprisingly strong.

“Huh,” he muttered. “Damn fine job, Dameron.”

But he didn’t move to inform Phasma or the general or anyone else, just kept frowning at the blip. The Millennium Falcon hadn’t been seen in over a decade, which meant it hadn’t been flown in over a decade. He’d never told Phasma, or anyone else, but Poe had kept a lookout for the Falcon since it had disappeared, as a favor for an old friend and a personal interest. He could only imagine two scenarios in which it would be flown now and no smuggler would be stupid enough to use the most wanted ship by both the New Republic and the First Order, and Han Solo...well, Poe would know if  _ he _ was flying the Falcon again. 

But the question wasn’t who was flying it--that was either the Sovereign One’s pet bounty hunter or his quarry--the question was where were they flying to. Poe was familiar with Rakata Prime, more pertinently with a mission the Jedi Chancellor had taken there several years ago with disastrous results. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would dare to go there.

Squeaks whistled at his feet, drawing Poe’s attention away from the readout. Maybe it was just nostalgia, but he could have sworn the droid had almost asked a question.

“Just a dilemma, Squeaks. Nothing to worry about. Well, for you. No, for  _ you _ , I have a little job. Eject memory drive, Squeaks.”

The box droid made an almost argumentative noise, then opened up a compartment and ejected a thin disk. Poe reached around his neck, pulling out a secondary drive on a chain, which he inserted into the console. He downloaded the information on the Falcon, then inserted the disk into the MSE droid. 

“Off you go, Squeaks.” 

The droid beeped and then skittered off out of the command center. Poe wouldn’t see it for a few hours, but that was usual when he set it on its secondary function. Then he settled back in his chair again and paged Darth Phasma.

She arrived within minutes, red-tinged cape swirling in her wake as she entered with military precision. “Dameron.”

He folded his hands behind his head, a smug smile on his face. “You’re gonna be proud of me.”

“I doubt that. Do you have results or are you simply ‘chatting?’”

“Oh, I have results.”

He didn’t have to look to sense her silent warning buried in skepticism. So he rolled his head back over the edge of the chair, and raised an eyebrow.

“Your lack of faith is wounding,” he told her.

“What did you find, Dameron?”

“Would it physically hurt you to call me Poe or are you afraid of falling desperately in love with me?”

Phasma’s eye twitched and he just grinned at her.

“Alright, alright. Not your type, huh? That’s fine.” He winked. “You’re not mine either.”

“If you pulled me away from an important interrogation for this--”

“ _ No. _ I said I have results and I do. I found the Falcon and in record time, too. What interrogation?”

“A low-level spy, not that it’s your business.”

“That you personally are interrogating? Can’t be that low-level,” Poe mused.

“The interrogators weren’t extracting the right information at a suitable pace.”

Poe crossed his arms over his chest. “I found you the Millennium Falcon in a matter of  _ hours _ . You can tell me about your interrogation.”

She narrowed her eyes, but an almost pleased gleam flickered in them. “Why the sudden interest in interrogations, Dameron?” she asked, sauntering closer.

“I’m a nosy biddy,” he replied with a shrug, though as always, his heart rate increased at her proximity. Every flippant answer, every tease and flirt, were dangerous choices with the Sith Lord. He had always hoped to be too amusing to kill or maim, but her predatory stalk reminded him that he had no sense of the edge with her and one day he’d go over it. Then she’d destroy him. “And bored. This ship finding was the most exciting thing I’ve had to do for days and look how long it took me. Like five hours. You gotta give me something else.”

She raised an eyebrow, then smiled, a remarkably chilling look that made Poe wonder if he’d suddenly leapt off the edge. “As it so happens, Dameron, I  _ do _ have something else for you.”

“Oh great! What is it? Tracking another ship? Making another lightsaber hilt? Your very own mouse droid?”

All amusement slid from her face. “No.”

“Then damn, Phas, I’m all out of ideas.”

“You’re coming with me.”

Poe froze mid-snarky reply. He closed his mouth and licked his lips once, frowning, before looking up at her. “Come again?”

“That’s right, gremlin. You’re leaving the base. Consider it a...test of your loyalty.”

Poe shook his head. “No, no, no. I don’t stay here ‘cause I’m a risk. I stay here ‘cause I’m  _ at _ risk. Of dying messily if I go anywhere near the New Republic and specifically everyone there I ever knew.”

“I suppose that means it’s a good thing you’re not going anywhere near the New Republic,” she answered.

“Where are we going then?”

She slid her gaze to the holo with the Falcon’s blip.

“We’re going after the Falcon? Y-you personally are going after the Falcon? But what if it’s--what if it’s just Snoke?”

“It isn’t. It’s the Force Princess and a pair of Jedi,” Phasma answered. “Snoke is too incompetent to bring them in. Even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t have the power to take them.”

“Okay, great. You do. That’s excellent. Why am I going?”

“You were a pilot once, were you not?”

Poe’s forehead furrowed. “You’ve got a dozen pilots here. You don’t need one who hasn’t flown in, what, 13 years? Wait, hold on. Were you serious about that, that loyalty test? What exactly makes you doubt my loyalty enough to test it?”

A thin smile spread across Phasma’s face. “Got you,” she said.

He stared, the unexpected words slowly affecting his memory of the conversation until at last it dawned on him what had happened. “Did you--that was--You were joking?”

Her smile lingered and his mouth fell open.

“I didn’t know you could. Doesn’t joking go against the Sith code or something? How’s that thing go? ‘There is no humor; there is being dull and stiff?’”

Her smile widened and he swore she was holding back a laugh.

“Well!” Poe exclaimed, leaning back in the chair with a chuckle. “I’m duly impressed.”

“So you should be,” Phasma intoned, pushing past him and going for the door. “We leave immediately.”

He fell out of the chair. “Wait, what?”

“You’re still coming with me. I have need of you.”

Poe scrambled to his feet and jogged to match her long stride. “Gonna have to just back up there. I’m still going? That wasn’t the joke?”

“The loyalty test was the joke. Despite your background, yours has never been a question aside from my usual mistrust.”

“Well, you don’t trust anyone,” Poe said, then shook his head, waving his hand in front of him. “But why am I actually going with you?”

“It serves my purpose.”

“Which means…?”

Phasma glanced down at him, then stopped and with a flick of her finger lifted him a few inches off the ground.

“Listen well, Dameron. If I say find me a ship, you find me a ship. If I say come, you come. For all your jokes and joviality, you are an underling and you obey me. You do not question me.”

Poe swallowed and managed a nervous smile. “As you say, Darth. So...Rakata Prime, then?”

Phasma stared him down until the smile faded from Poe’s face. He felt the edge now, and fear wedged between his vertebra. Then the Sith Lord set him back on the ground and straightened, gaze fixed straight ahead of her as if he didn’t exist.

“Rakata Prime,” she agreed and strode onward.

Poe exhaled, running a hand along his beard as he let her stride out of earshot. “Damn, I hope she doesn’t fly a piece of junk.”

 

* * *

 

 

Beneath the turquoise oceans and charcoal shores, beneath the ancient temples and sunken cities, beneath derelict tunnels and underground rivers, beneath it all something slept. For a millennium or more it had slept, its dark dreams permeating out between the stars, trickling into a million, million life forces, slowly breeding darkness as it slept. But it was not a passive sleep, but a way to bide the time, to wait for its call to be answered. 

Its call had been answered now. 

For the second time. This time, it would not go unheard, unsworn...disobeyed. 

It was time.

 

* * *

Leia stopped in the middle of a meeting with her generals and advisers, a stricken expression on her face. 

“Jedi Chancellor?” Ackbar asked, looking toward her with concern. The disappearance of their rebel comrade and New Republic pilot, Nien Nunb was worrisome and boded ill, but it wasn’t enough for someone of Leia’s composure to look so pale and sickened.

But he couldn’t feel what she could, the horrible awakening in the Force, like a distant scream. She stood, casting a blank look over her advisers.

“Do what you see best for locating Nien Nunb. Mon Mothma has final authority,” she said, nodding to the elderly woman at the opposite end of the table.

“What about you?” a bearded man with silver-streaked black hair asked.

“I have something to take care of. Now. Finn is in danger.”

Ransolm Casterfo, a rather young, but jovial senator--her friend as much as rival--leaned his head back. “He’s a Jedi Master, trained by  _ you _ . I think he can handle himself.”

“He needs me,” Leia said and with that she turned and left the room. Casterfo hesitated, but when Mon Mothma stood as well, the two of them pursued the Jedi Chancellor.

“What’s going on?” Casterfo asked as they caught up to her. “It’s not like you to just take off.” Leia shot him a raised-eyebrow look and he amended, “Not anymore. This isn’t a corruption scandal the senate is dragging its feet over. You’re abandoning the New Republic to go chasing after your own Jedi.”

“It’s only abandonment if I never come back,” Leia said.

“If Master Finn is in as much danger as you claim, then I think that seems a strident possibility, don’t you? Not coming back?”

“I’ve done riskier things,” Leia replied.

“Sure,” Casterfo agreed. “I did a fair few with you. But this isn’t like when you were part of the Rebellion. You weren’t Jedi Chancellor then at  _ war _ with the worst thing since the Empire..”

“Worse than the Empire,” Leia admitted softly, a crushing grief briefly flickering over her face before she straightened and tipped her chin up. “That’s why this so important. More than just saving Finn and Hux. Where they are...I have to intervene before something worse than the First Order and the Empire combined happens.” When Casterfo didn’t have an immediate response, she glanced toward Mon Mothma walking silently on her right. “You’ve not said anything, yet, but you followed me.”

“Senator Casterfo can usually say everything before I can draw breath,” Mon Mothma answered with a tiny smile.

Casterfo frowned, but frankly she was right. Compared to stately, reserved woman, he was expressive and quick to talk. 

“You think I should stay as well,” Leia stated.

Mon Mothma sighed and stopped walking, the other two doing the same. “I trust your judgement, Leia, and I know how the Force moves through you, but how do you know where Master Finn is? We have not heard from them since they landed at Kanata Castle, which we know went badly.”

“Because I’ve been there before, where they are now. When it stirs...there’s not a Force-sensitive in the galaxy who can’t feel it. I may be wrong, but I don’t think I am.”

“Is there a way to confirm your feeling?”

“Potentially. I have a source or two to check still, but it’ll waste time confirming it.”

“Supposing your leaving is the wisest course of action here, you would still need time to prepare for this trip. An hour at least. I’m sure you can squeeze in a confirmation.”

Leia’s face warmed at the oversight, but she nodded. “If my source even has the information, but I’ll check nonetheless.” She tilted her head with an empathetic half-smile on her face. “And leaving  _ is _ the wisest course of action, no matter the consequences. I’m the only one who could go and possibly return. I know it seems reckless, but it’s necessary.”

“And personal?”

Leia sighed, averting her eyes for just a moment. “I can’t lose Finn, too. I’ve already lost too many. Finn was always supposed to be safe.”

The older woman regarded the Jedi Chancellor thoughtfully. “I won’t pretend you don’t make rash decisions, Leia. You have a tendency to lead with your heart; however, you have led us well for nearly fifteen years, even when your heart was broken beyond all reason, and far more than any person should have to bear. If I trusted your judgement then, I will trust it now.”

Leia let out a faint breath and nodded, squeezing Mon Mothma’s hand. “Thank you. Your trust is everything. And I know I can trust you to oversee things here on my behalf.”

“Of course.”

Casterfo watched them both, then cleared his throat. “And how are you going to get wherever it is you’re going, Jedi Chancellor? If I recall, you sent your best pilots off after the Millennium Falcon.”

“You can’t come, Ransolm,” Leia said sternly.

Mon Mothma raised her eyebrows.

“I know how to fly a ship,” he argued.

Leia crossed her arms. “I know very well--”

“I’m damn good at it too.”

“--that you can fly a ship, but I’m not taking--”

“You need backup and I--”

“--a senator away from the Republic--”

“--can back you up.”

“You’re not listening, Ransolm.”

“Are you going to take Threepio? Because you’re not taking that droid as your only backup.”

“Listen to me.”

“I’m just going to follow you.”

“Listen to me now!” Leia snapped and Casterfo shut up, feeling sharply reprimanded and a little bit childish. “Someone is going to die on that planet. No, don’t--this is a fact. It’s the planet itself. No one can leave it without a sacrifice. The more trying to leave, the more painful the sacrifice. I’m not going to risk it being you.”

“But you’re okay with risking yourself?” he challenged.

“ _ I  _ know what I’m getting into.”

He shook his head. “This isn’t being kidnapped by a mob boss so you can gain intel, Leia. By your own admission, this is far more dangerous than anything you’ve done. You can’t go in alone. Jedi Master or not.”

Leia looked down, her head bowed with a weight he could never truly comprehend, just seek to lighten. 

“I could be wrong,” she said.

“When has that ever happened?” he retorted teasingly.

A touch of a smile brushed her lips, gone almost as soon as it appeared. 

“You can be my pilot,” she said quietly, then looked up and glared into his eyes. “But don’t you dare leave that ship for even a single second.”

“Not a jiffy,” he swore, a faint giddiness at the thought of adventuring beside Leia again running through him, despite the severity of the moment, despite the risk before them. 

“Meet me in hangar two,” she sighed. “Thirty minutes.”

He nodded soberly, but a little eagerly and hurried off. Only after he had disappeared did Mon Mothma softly remark, “You know very well how to fly a ship.”

“I do,” Leia said.

“You’re afraid. To go alone.”

Leia closed her eyes for a moment, then admitted, “I’m terrified.”

Mon Mothma squeezed her arm, then pulled her into a tight hug. “Be safe. Be clever. Come home with them all.”

“I will,” Leia said.

“May the Force be with you, more than ever before.”

Leia could only hold on a little firmer, then break away with a resolved set to her jaw. She searched for a proper good-bye, but couldn’t find any words to say that could express everything she needed to and wanted to say. So she just nodded and Mon Mothma smiled slightly in understanding.

They parted then, walking in opposite directions along the corridor, a sickening feeling in both their hearts that they would not meet again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again, Nightwing11! I couldn't write this fic without you. :)


	7. New Ways to Motivate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han Solo makes an appearance and I'm quite excited. We are also a step closer to meeting the Sovereign One at last. 
> 
> Finn, Rey, and the crew try to find a way off of Rakata Prime without giving it what it, and the darkness lurking there, what it wants most: freedom and sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought I'd never update again. Just been busy is all.

Only three people apart from the Sovereign One could move without restriction through the First Order base. One was Darth Phasma, the other the general, and the last was Han Solo. So it was that sauntering out of the Sovereign One’s private communication center, Han Solo was not stopped and questioned, but saluted. He gave the troopers a crooked smirk and a raised eyebrow, but kept walking. 

It was a common enough reaction to Han Solo. Troopers and commanders alike would step aside with a crisp salute and level of fear and respect not even Darth Phasma commanded. There were stories of what happened if respect wasn’t shown to Han Solo, stories of what happened to the people who had muttered suspicions of his loyalty. He’d been the Jedi Chancellor’s lover after all, or still was, and some rumors suggested they’d even had a child. But such things were not safely mentioned in the First Order. Not if the mentioner wanted to keep their mind intact.

Han continued through the base alone, giving indulgent if exasperated nods to every stop-and-salute. Once he’d made his way to the lower level, he let himself into the room at the end, but the workshop for the Sovereign One’s inventor was empty. Frowning, Han retreated up a level and peered into the first occupied room, a rec room of sorts with two troopers sitting in it leaning over halochess, their helmets discarded to one side.

“Hey, what happened to that Dameron guy? You know, Poe?”

The troopers looked up and about fell over themselves trying to get their helmets on, stand, and salute. Only one managed the helmet, his leg caught on the chair, so he stood awkwardly, while the other stood straight at attention, but dropped her helmet.

Han held out a hand. “Listen, just answer the question. No need for this...hooplah.”

“Darth Phasma had need of him. Sir,” the trooper without the helmet answered, her dark face ashen.

“Phasma?” Han echoed. “What for? Where’d they go?”

“I don’t, I don’t know, sir.”

“She was looking for a ship, sir,” the trooper wearing his helmet said. “Something to do with the Force Princess I think.”

“When’s she gonna be done with Dameron?” Han asked.

The troopers glanced at each other before the helmetless one said, “I don’t know, sir. We weren’t...informed.”

Han scowled before pointing at the troopers and saying, “Phasma needs to learn to share.” He drew away from the door, then called back, “Or date!”

Muttering to himself and shaking his head, Han took the lifts up and stalked down the corridors to nearest command center. The technicians inside hastily stood and saluted. Han grimaced.

“Phasma come stalking through here?”

“No, sir,” one technician answered promptly. “She left the base several hours ago.”

“Well, where’d she go?”

The technician licked his lips uneasily then answered, “A mission for the Sovereign One, sir. They took her ship--.”

“‘ _They?’”_ Han scowled. “Let me guess, she’s got Dameron with her still.” The technician nodded. “Well, where did they go this time?”

“She told no one but the Sovereign One, sir--my lord! Sir?”

Han granted the technician’s title struggles no more than a sideways glance. “You know  _ why _ they went off?”

The technician shook his head, but another abruptly stood and saluted. “Han Solo, sir.”

Han glanced at her expectantly. “Yeah?”

“I heard word that the Millennium Falcon has been sighted, Han Solo, sir, potentially carrying the Force Princess, sir. Flight Command believes Lord Phasma is retrieving it. Sir.”

Han looked at her, eyebrows lowered. “No one tells me anything!” he huffed before stalking out of the command center. He made it as far as the outer door of the Sovereign One’s chamber before he was finally stopped. 

“The Sovereign One does not wish to be disturbed,” the honor guard outside said, one of two helmetless guards in white cloth uniforms, notable for their Force sensitivity, though they were no Sith.

“I’m Han Solo,” Han said, hands on his hips, stance staggered.

“Not even you are granted entrance at this time, sir.”

Han’s mouth twisted in annoyance before he jabbed his finger at the guards. “You tell the ‘Sovereign One’ that I don’t like him locking himself away like this.”

The guard’s expression was neutral and his tone flat, either unimpressed or unconcerned by Han’s demands, though the other had gone white as his uniform. “As you wish, sir,” the first guard intoned.

“And I don’t like being locked out, either.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he better come find me when he gets done with  _ whatever he’s doing in there!” _ Han added, raising his voice for the last phrase in the hope it would carry into the Sovereign One’s chambers. 

The unperturbed guard merely said,  “We will inform him, sir. As usual.”

The white-faced guard swallowed and nodded.

Han glared at the door a moment, then stepped back, hands on his hips. “Fine then. If that’s how you wanna play it,” he said to the one beyond the door. “I hope you’re sensing all this anger out here! It’s directed at you, Big Shot.” 

He huffed and stormed down the hall, muttering under his breath.

“Millennium Falcon found and no one tells me. Have to find out on my own. Have to find Dameron on my own. Have to do everything on my own. Now I know why Leia hated being second.”

His grumpy expression faltered slightly at the thought of Leia, but then he waved it off with a dissatisfied, “Mehh,” and stalked off to get things done.

 

* * *

 

Finn and Hux had bickered for almost an hour about who would step onto the planet’s surface. Once Finn had established that whatever their efforts, they wouldn’t be able to leave without doing so, without visiting a temple, then Hux had insisted on going with his master. Finn adamantly refused. He didn’t want anyone going with him, but particularly not his injured Padawan. 

The arguments went in circles. The only person Finn didn’t protest about coming was, of all people, the stormtrooper. But then Kass refused to let him go anywhere with the enemy, which led to Hux, oddly, arguing that the stormtrooper wasn’t going to betray them and wasn’t this all the Force Princess’ fault anyway? Finn rose to Rey’s defense, but she agreed with Hux and insisted on going, which set Kass off again, because she wasn’t letting Rey on that planet and out of her sight. It was her duty to protect the princess at all costs. 

In the end they finally, begrudgingly, agreed for Finn, Kass, and BB-8 to go “pay homage.” Rey was to stay with Hux and the stormtrooper. None of them were pleased.

Trudging through the sandy shoreline into the jungle, Kass refused to speak to Finn, not that Finn was speaking. In fact only BB-8 seemed to have anything to say, rolling between the two and beeping anxiously in an attempt to facilitate conversation. They ignored the little droid and eventually BB-8 gave up with a disappointed whine.

Finn led away from the beach and their silent trek continued, the heat beading sweat down their necks, the suffocating unease emanating from the planet churning their stomachs. Even Kass could feel it, the oppressive hatred that oozed from the sand, from the sun, from the very air.

“What really is this place?” she asked finally, glancing at the young Jedi Master and wondering how in the stars he had ever managed such a rank.

“Death,” Finn said. 

“Helpful description,” Kass snapped. 

“It’s accurate. This place is death. We should never have come here.”

“That wasn’t the princess’ fault.”

“I never said it was,” Finn replied shortly. He shook his head. “It’s this place. I don’t know how, but somehow it found...me.”

Kass reached out and grabbed the Jedi, jerking him to a halt. “What the hell happened here? And I don’t want any of these vague allusions to death and something terrible. Tell me the facts. What happened?”

Finn looked down a moment, then met her gaze. “Master Leia, myself, and another Jedi--Kanji--came here trying to find Luke Skywalker. But when we got here, we discovered it was trap. No Luke. Just this...thing. I can’t describe it, but it’s dark, ancient...I’ve never felt anything as full of the Dark Side as this thing. It was trying to use us to...escape, essentially.” He exhaled slowly, averting his eyes. “We tried to leave as soon as we realized what was happening, but we didn’t understand. Leaving requires sacrifice. We thought we could avoid it, but it all went wrong. Kanji was killed trying to escape and then suddenly...we could go. As easily as we arrived.”

Kas studied him for a long time as the silence grew between them again. At last she asked, “Who dies this time?”

Finn didn’t answer until BB-8 chirped a repeat of the question. 

“Me,” Finn said at last, looking up. “It has to be me.”

BB-8 rolled back a foot in shock.

“No,” Kass said immediately. “Princess Rey would never allow that.”

“Why do you think I didn’t want her to come? Or Hux. You’re a soldier. You should understand.”

“There’s a difference between sacrifice for the greater good and, and suicide.”

“Getting the rest of you out  _ is _ the greater good. Keeping you all safe, getting Rey safely to Master Leia and away from the First Order.”

“And what about you? You’re one of the only Jedi in the entire galaxy. One way or another they keep ending up dead or turning to the Dark Side. If you die, how many will be left?”

Finn shook his head. “That’s not--”

“How many, Master Finn?” Kass demanded, BB-8 tilting its head in a somehow accusatory way.

Finn glanced away then exhaled. “Four.”

“Four,” Kass repeated. “And that isn’t counting the princess, correct?”

“...Yeah.”

“You’d do that to the Jedi Chancellor, with the First Order getting more powerful every day, with Darth Phasma getting more powerful every day? And if you’re right, if Luke Skywalker is alive and siding with the First Order...they need you.”

Finn spread his hands. “What do you want me to do? We can’t stay here forever, believe me. We’d all die then.”

“So we sacrifice the one who would impact the war the least, who’s expendable.”

Finn frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. “Just because the First Order uses their troopers as cannon fodder--”

“I didn’t mean the stormtrooper, tempting though that is.”

Finn tilted his head questioningly. 

Kass took a deep breath, then straightened, lifting her chin. “It is my duty--”

His eyes widened. “No!”

“--my honor--”

“Kass, stop.”

“--and my privilege,” Kass continued, raising her voice to cover his protests, “to give my life in service to the princess. I swore to protect her in all things. If sacrifice is necessary to leave this damned planet, then I willingly sacrifice myself. For Rey.”

BB-8 whirred and beeped in a furious string of denial that Kass waved off even as Finn shook his head fervently. “I can’t let you do that.”

“I won’t leave you with that choice,” Kass promised, then her face softened, a shadow crossing it. “I owe this.”

“Owe this to what? To who?” Finn demanded.

“It has to be done, does it not?” Kass snapped. “It’s inevitable and I am not a Jedi nor a princess nor a prisoner. Therefore it must be me and I am willing. So shut up. It’s done.”

And she pushed past him, stalking along the path.

BB-8 whistled a melancholy question to Finn. He rubbed his forehead. “What would Master Leia do? She’d never allow this...would she?”

The droid only whined and rolled after Kass. After a moment, Finn did the same.

 

* * *

 

Steam hissed abruptly from beneath the floors of the Millennium Falcon, followed by Rey cursing. Hux sat on the floor by the tool chest, leaning against the curved wall and sighed.

“What did you do this time?”

Rey’s head popped up from the deep space beneath the floor panels. “What did  _ I _ do? I want to see you try to rebuild a ship this old and in as much need of repair as it was. It isn’t easy, you know. Nor is fixing it without someone who knows what they’re doing. What kind of pilot are you?”

“I know what I’m doing!” Hux snarled. “You just can’t give clear instructions!”

“I don’t what’s so unclear about ‘I need the calcinator.’”

Then abruptly, the stormtrooper--sitting silently and uncertainly at the table--said, “I can help.”

They both looked at him in surprise, then Rey shook her head. “I don’t want  _ your _ help. You shot Hux.”

“Leave him out of this,” Hux snapped.

“He jumped into it. And why are you defending him when he nearly killed you?” Rey argued. 

“Because he was ordered to,” Hux replied.

“And if Master Finn ordered you to kill him would you do that? Of course not. Because you should have some sort of moral center that the First Order lacks.”

“He made a choice to leave them.”

Rey shook her head. “No, he didn’t. We brought him along with us. That’s not choosing.”

She glanced at Ben, then Hux, her expression not hostile, but gently warning. Warning Hux from getting attached, or trusting maybe. Then an alarm went off as the steam increased in pressure and Rey growled, lunging up to grab a tool before ducking back underneath. Hux exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face, then finding Ben staring at him. The Jedi looked away first.

“Why does it sound like the motivator is going out when you were fixing the navigation system?” Hux asked.

“Probably because the motivator  _ is _ going out independently of the navigation system. Now get me a Harris wrench,” Rey said, popping up again in time for Hux to toss her the wrench. They glared at each other, then she ducked beneath again.

A few moments later and the steam cut off, shortly followed by the alarm. Rey straightened, sweeping a loose strand of hair out of her face, then hoisting herself out of the pit. Between the escape from Kanata Castle and crawling around the underbelly of the ship, Rey’s dress had been torn and stained, but she didn’t seem to notice, or care. She checked a monitor then sighed.

“Fixed it,” she said. “At least the motivator. I  _ think  _ I fixed the nav system, but that’s harder to tell until we use it.”

“Just try to avoid planets steeped in the Dark Side next time and we’ll be fine,” Hux said snidely.

Rey sighed, bowing her head. “I didn’t mean to bring us here. I didn’t even know I was doing it. And if something happens to Kass or Finn or BB-8 because of it, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Hux glanced at Ben, then pushed himself painfully to his feet. “None of us are here by choice so much as fate.”

“The Force?” Rey said.

“That too. Master Finn is here because the Jedi Chancellor bade him go. I’m here because of him. You’re here because of us, and a little intervention from the First Order. Ben’s here because of both those things.”

Rey glanced at him, a faint smile on her face. “Was that almost an apology?”

Hux returned the small smile. “Almost as much as yours.”

“I don’t know why I got so worked up. That isn’t like me,” Rey said, shaking her head.

Hux didn’t answer that. He’d have to agree and the fact was, he couldn’t. Snippy and quick to anger was exactly like him. But he could understand Rey’s position. Even he could sense her fear and worry. 

“Have you ever been away from home before?”

Rey looked up, eyes widening slightly as she met Hux’s gaze. She inhaled softly, then looked away. 

“No. Not that I can remember.” Her lips tightened. “I don’t even know if Maz is alright.”

“If she was dead, you would have felt that, especially with your strength in the Force,” Hux assured her. “And the First Order’s bounty hunter won’t linger. Queen Maz isn’t his--”

But then Hux spotted a glimpse of something out the cockpit window down the corridor and frowned, starting toward it. Rey shot a confused look at Ben and followed.

“What is it?” she asked, sensing the stormtrooper hesitantly shadowing her.

“A ship,” Hux said. “I think I just saw a ship.”

They crowded into the cockpit, peering up at the sky until Ben suddenly pointed. They all saw it then, a ship coasting just above the jungle line before dropping out of sight.

“Who could that be?” Rey asked. “I didn’t think anyone knew where this planet even was. Is it the bounty hunter?”

“It’s not Snoke,” Ben intoned, his shyness--or whatever it was that kept him from interjecting--disappearing in the midst of focus. “It’s Darth Phasma.”

The color drained from Hux’s face and Rey stared at the stormtrooper.

“Darth Phasma? Are you sure?” she asked.

Ben nodded without looking away from the last point the ship had been seen. “I can feel her.”

Hux narrowed his eyes at Ben, but Rey stepped back. “We have to warn Finn and Kass,” she said, turning to leave.

The Jedi Knight twisted around and reached for her. “Princess, wait!”

But Rey had already bolted down the corridor and Hux’s lunge sent a spasm of pain through his chest. He fell against the wall with a hiss, holding his torso. A hand touched his shoulder and Hux glanced up to find Ben hovering anxiously over him. 

“Make sure this is ready to fly when we get back!” Rey shouted back at them as she ran.

“Princess, you aren’t in charge here!”

“Do as I say!”

And then she was down the ramp and sprinting into the jungle.

“Master isn’t going to be pleased about this,” Hux muttered, then pushed off the wall, letting Ben steady him, but only for efficiency’s sake, not because he appreciated the stormtrooper fussing over him.

“What do we do?” Ben asked. “Darth Phasma is too powerful.”

Hux scowled. “We do as she said. Apparently.” Hux settled himself into the pilot’s seat. “And maybe we can take out Phasma’s transportation in the meantime.”

Ben studied him a moment, then swiftly strode back down the corridor and took up a position in the gunnery seat. Hux almost smiled at that. Then he looked over the Falcon’s controls.

“Let’s see what this thing can do.”

 

* * *

 

After Kass’ declaration, there was no more conversation, Kass retreating into herself and Finn unable to broach the subject again. He refused to accept that Kass had to die, but her arguments kept spinning in his head, more understandable each time. Worse, he had no alternative. Sure, he could die, he was willing to, but Kass was right. He had a duty to the New Republic, to Leia, to stay alive. He couldn’t condone this, couldn’t accept this, but until he could think of a way to avoid it, he could at least stay with Kass.

When the square, stone temple came in sight, Kass hesitated, her resolved expression splintering for just a moment. Finn hesitated, then took her hand. Kass started to pull away, but then bit her lip and tightened her grip, raising her chin, and striding forward.

They approached the temple, unremarkable except for the nearly overwhelming sense of dread that seeped from the very stones of it. 

“Kass,” Finn said as they reached the entrance, slowing.

“Don’t try to bring it up again,” she said.

“I won’t. I just...I need to warn you.”

Kass stopped, lips twisting sharply. “What now?”

“The Dark Side, you may have felt it, but it could try to turn you. To...push you to do something you don’t want to do. You have to stay strong in your resolve, in your dedication to Rey. Otherwise…” He looked away. “Otherwise, bad things happen.”

Kass sighed softly, then entered the temple, only speaking once she stood within its shade. “I am not afraid.”

Finn was though. He was very afraid. 

_ There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no emotion; there is peace. _

He’d never found much solace in the Code though, not like Hux, not like Master Leia. He certainly didn’t now. But he followed Kass into the dark.

“It happened to you, didn’t it?” Kass said as they walked, scanning the shadows and unseen crevices for danger beyond the temple itself. BB-8 clicked on a light, illuminating their path and emitting worried whirs every few feet. “The temple, Dark Side, pushed you to do something wrong.”

Finn sighed. “Kind of. Yes, but not...I was able to fight it, before it was too late. I mean, I got angry and confused and I, I drew my lightsaber on the Jedi Chancellor, but...Kanji was the one who lost control. I didn’t want to fight him.”

“Did you kill him?”

“I was responsible,” Finn said.

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is to a Jedi.”

Kass didn’t answer that, but after a moment she asked, “Where do we have to go?”

“This way. We’re close.”

Finn took the lead again, forcing sureness into his steps, but regret and guilt swarmed through him, growing stronger the closer to the center of the temple they went. And with the guilt came anger and grief and hate of himself. Feelings he’d found peace with long ago welled up again as poignant as they’d been the day he’d first felt them. So focused on trying to quell them again, he didn’t notice when they’d arrived until Kass touched his arm.

He looked up, and came face to face with the same masked statue he remembered from his first visit, a statue that still haunted his dreams. Thirty, maybe forty feet high, it had been carved from a black stone Finn had never identified, a genderless, robed figure whose hands were hidden and face obscured by a featureless mask. Only the statue’s eyes were detailed. 

“This seems a good place,” Kass said, her lips twitching faintly. BB-8 bumped comfortingly against her leg and she laid a hand on its head. “Shame this place isn’t crawling with unsavory creatures out for our blood. Death in battle seems a better way to go somehow.”

“Kass,” Finn murmured.

“It’s alright. You know, for all your talk of dread and disaster, this place doesn’t seem so terrible. Almost peaceful.” She walked toward the statue, ascending the wide stairs leading to its base. BB-8 whistled in alarm and rolled to the bottom of the stairs, trying to ramp itself up them after her. “Don’t waste time here when it’s over, though.”

“Kass, wait.”

She turned toward him, her blaster muzzle wedged firmly under her chin. Instinctively, Finn reached out with the Force, but all at once he couldn’t even feel it, just a wall where the Force should be. 

“Don’t bother with my body. Rey doesn’t need to see it and I don’t have any family left.”

“Kass, please,” Finn said, striding toward the steps, but Kass held out her hand. 

“Stop it. You’re making this harder than it is already.”

Finn froze on the bottom step, BB-8 beeping frantically and bumping against the stair. Kass took a deep breath, closing her eyes and tipping her head back. She readjusted her grip on the blaster, swallowing. 

None of them noticed the red mist oozing out of the statue and ghosting toward Kass. It coiled around her legs, twining higher around her waist, her torso, slowly sinking into her skin. And all at once, she lowered the blaster.

Finn let out a sigh of relief and--horribly--disappointment. “Kass--”

She fired the blaster at him. The bolt seared through his shoulder and Finn staggered back, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“Kass, wait! No!”

BB-8 shrieked, head swiveling frantically between the two of them.

“You wanted me dead,” she said, firing again. This time Finn dodged the blast, rolling to one side. “Then no one would be in your way when you took control of the princess!”

“That’s not true! I told you not to do it!”

She fired again. Even one-handed she was an unerringly good markswoman, Finn able to dodge each blaster bolt only from years of training. He kept reaching for the Force, for guidance at the least, but every time, came up empty, his attunement to it muffled, like grasping for mist. 

“You manipulated me! I know how you Jedi work! I know what you can do to the minds of the weak-willed, the innocent, naive.”

“Kass! Stop this!”

“I’ve seen the evil Jedi can do in the name of peace.” She strode down the stairs, firing off enough bolts to drive Finn to take shelter behind a pillar. BB-8 rolling frantically after him. “You’ve slaughtered as many as the First Order!”

“We haven’t killed anyone!” Finn replied, unholstering his lightsaber, but reluctant to light it up.

“You murdered my brother,” Kass snarled, standing in the middle of the room, her eyes searching for a sign of him. “You murdered a child, a whole school of children.”

Finn’s forehead furrowed, but he didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. 

“The First Order was coming, in its early days, coming to ‘convince’ our planet’s viscount to support them. The Jedi were already there. And when your Jedi Chancellor was in a  _ diplomatic meeting _ with the viscount and the First Order’s  _ general _ , his stormtroopers were slaughtering an entire school.”

_ No, _ Finn thought. That couldn’t be. Leia wouldn’t have allowed that.

“The Jedi did nothing. They signed a treaty and left us to our ruin. Left me to cradle my brother’s body and prepare for the First Order’s occupation.”

Leia wouldn’t have...it couldn’t be. No. Kass lied. She was trying to turn him against Master Leia, making him doubt her and everything she stood for. No! Finn ignited his saber and stepped out from behind the pillar, tugging free of BB-8’s little claw hand that grasped his robe. 

“You’re lying,” he said. “Master Leia would never do that.”

“She’s deceiving you!”

“You don’t know her!”

“She’s a murderer,” Kass snarled. 

Finn gritted his teeth, then charged at the guardswoman. But before he could reach her, he was flung backward into a pillar. He slid to the bottom and groaned, squinting up to see Darth Phasma standing by the entrance. 

“Master Finn,” she purred, striding toward the two, holding Kass frozen in place with a casual extension of the Force. “Leia’s favorite little Jedi. What a wonderful place you’ve found.” Phasma tilted her head back, gazing up at the statue through half-lidded eyes. “Astounding that I’ve never sensed it before. So much power here.”

Finn struggled to rise, pain rolling through his back. 

Phasma. Here. 

He’d never faced Darth Phasma, only augmented reality training exercises that he always lost. Even Leia had never truly faced Phasma. Only brief skirmishes scouting the edges of the other’s ability, but nothing in earnest. And not in this place steeped in the Dark Side. He could see her drinking in the energy of the planet, of the temple, an intoxicated grin growing on her face. 

Something shifted on a infinitesimal level that he couldn’t name, but he could sense it in the way Phasma spread her arms, welcoming the darkness. Finn felt something break loose in the universe itself as red mist swirled toward Phasma, seeping into her skin. 

She turned her gaze on Kass who still struggled against the Force bond holding her in place. Finn sucked in a sharp breath and rolled onto his stomach, getting an elbow underneath him. 

Then Phasma extended her hand toward Kass, power gathering around Kass, bearing down on her. The Sith Lord smiled and clenched her fist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many, many thanks to my beta-reader, Nightwing11!! She is the greatest and she is the best.


	8. To Ignore the Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe feels the effects of Rakata Prime, and decides to take the Millennium Falcon, by any means necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna try shorter chapters with the hope I'll update more. :)

Poe tossed the bolt across the cockpit and Squeaks scurried after it, picking it up and returning it to Poe who would toss it again. He had no idea where this behavior had come from in the droid. It certainly hadn’t been programmed in. He would have thought it was Squeak’s normal function, except it seemed different from its usual seek and return of odd objects. If Poe hadn’t known better, he’d have said it was a behavioral quirk, but the only personality the MSE droid had was what Poe wished it had.

Squeaks had almost missed take-off, taking far longer on its little mission than he had expected it to. But to Poe’s delight and Phasma’s dismay, Squeaks had wheeled up the ramp just before it had closed. Poe had thought Phasma might crush it then and there, but he’d been quick to tell her that he wouldn’t fly if she crushed Squeaks.

“You’re far too attached to that...thing,” she’d snarled.

“I thought Sith were all about attachment,” he’d replied. “Besides, you wouldn’t destroy my only friend in the whole First Order, would you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I would.”

“Oh, you’ll be taking that spot then? I can only have one and whoever destroys the old one takes their place.”

Phasma hadn’t said anything more about the droid after that. 

Poe checked the controls again as Squeaks went after the latest bolt toss but he’d already done everything he needed to do. All that was left was waiting on Phasma to return to the ship. And hopefully she’d have what she needed and maybe he could pilot the Falcon back. He suddenly grinned imagining Han Solo’s face when Poe flew that baby into the hangar. The general would be jealous and shocked too, the two of them standing there like land-locked fish. 

Of course if Phasma took control of the Millennium Falcon, that would mean she had control of everyone who’d been aboard it, the Force Princess at least. If prisoners went to the Sovereign One, that would be alright, but sometimes Phasma kept prisoners for herself. He didn’t know what happened to them. No one did, but Phasma.

But no, the Sovereign One wanted the Force Princess and probably any other prisoners. They’d be Jedi and the Sovereign One wouldn’t give any Jedi over to Phasma. 

He shifted in his seat, checking through all the communication channels, including two secret ones, but no coms had come through. No messages, no commands except Phasma’s. 

_ Sit here and be ready to leave. Do not leave this ship. _

Well, Poe had never really done well with sitting still. He’d opened the ramp twice already, but hadn’t exited, just stared out at the surrounding jungle with a frown. He didn’t know what it was, but he could tell there was something... _ wrong _ with this planet.

He kept finding himself thinking through worse-case scenarios and feeling vibrantly emotions he hadn’t realized he’d felt. Like how much he feared Phasma. And how much he hated the Jedi Chancellor...

Painful memories kept coming to him, raising them to the surface of his mind like a fresh blood to an old wound. He had a lot of painful memories, but the oldest were the worst. And the ones from his last days with the New Republic.

He could still remember the last time he’d seen his father, Kes, an ache that he had thought had dulled over the years, but now every sentence came back like a slap in the face.

Kes, grabbing the 20 year old pilot as he’d tried to leave their shared apartment, pain and confusion on his face. 

“You can’t just defect to the First Order!” Kes had cried. “What about everything we’ve worked for, all we’ve built, here with the New Republic? All the good we’ve done. How can you throw that all away?”

“I know what that was now,” Poe had answered, ignoring his father completely as he packed the essentials into a small rucksack. “I know what that meant.”

“What that--” Kes shook his head furiously. “How can you dishonor your mother’s sacrifice?”

Poe whirled on him. “Don’t you use my mother as a weapon!” he hissed. 

“She died for you, Poe.” Kes grabbed Poe by the shoulders, staring into his eyes, his face twisted in desperation. “For you and every other child in the galaxy who deserved to live in a free universe!”

“She died for a lie, Papi,” Poe retorted, jerking free and slinging his pack onto his shoulder. 

“How could you...How can you say that?” Kes cried. “The First Order--”

“The First Order isn’t perfect, but they don’t abandon their own. They don’t lie to everyone about how good they are and how much they care about the galaxy. All the New Republic wants is to restore the Jedi and they don’t-- _ she _ doesn’t give a damn what happens to anyone else in the process. That’s the only reason there’s a war with the First Order at all.”

“Poe.”

“Why do you think Luke Skywalker left? He knew. He knew what the Jedi Chancellor was becoming, knew that she cared more about the Jedi than the rest of the galaxy. What has she done that didn’t benefit the Jedi first and everyone else if there was room? What wouldn’t she do to protect her precious Jedi? What about the Castell Treaty? How many Castellans died  _ while the treaty was being signed? _ ”

Poe exhaled hard, his hands shaking slightly and shook his head. Kes stood in silence for a moment.

“Where did you go?” Kes finally asked.

Poe looked up warily.

“Where did you go last night? Who did you talk to? Who put you so against Leia like this? She’s your hero. Poe!”

“Someone who showed me the truth,” Poe said and had walked for the door. 

Kes had followed him, grabbing his arm, his shoulder, trying to make Poe stop. “Please, Poe. Please don’t do this. Don’t support the New Republic, fine, but don’t go to those murderers, please. Poe. Son.”

Poe jerked his arm free and pushed the door control, letting it whoosh open. He stepped out, then looked back at his father for the last time. A thousand things had gone through his head then, of what to say, some scathing, some gentle, but in the end, he said nothing at all. Just turned around and walked on without another look back. 

Squeaks beeped, bumping against Poe’s ankle and dragging him back into the present. He blinked and looked down, picking up the bolt. The droid bumped his foot again and for a moment Poe could imagine it was asking him to throw the bolt for it.

Then cannon fire shook the ship and he nearly fell out of his chair.

“What was that?” he exclaimed, straightening again even as he craned his neck to look out the window. 

There. The fabled Millennium Falcon itself roared past, laser cannons letting loose on Phasma’s ship. Poe’s forehead furrowed as he saw it for the first time.

“What a piece of junk? Solo’s in love with  _ that? _ ”

But then the bolts hit and his ship shook again, spurring Poe into action.

“Fine. Fine, alright,” he said, flicking switches. “You wanna fight? Let’s fight. We’re gonna have a fight now.”

He launched his cruiser into the air, racing after the freighter like they were a pair of starfighters instead of two fairly clunky ships. It took him three seconds to realize that, out of practice or not, he was the better pilot--well, he already knew that--but within a minute, he could start to guess why Han Solo was so fond of the Falcon. 

The beauty could  _ move _ .

“Damn,” Poe said, unable to keep from appreciating the sheer way it cut through the air. Until it flipped around and starting firing on him again.

“Ah, dammit it. Squeaks! Hold on to something! It’s gonna get a little shaky in here.”

But despite the heavy dread of the planet, despite the threat of Phasma, despite the interference of the Falcon, and a dozen other things going wrong, Poe couldn’t help grinning like an idiot. He’d missed flying, and damn if he hadn’t missed battle aerials. This, this was home. And one way or another, he was going to get his hands on that Falcon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you're all still with me. :) We're getting closer to Stormpilot with every chapter. Plus the answer to several mysteries are soon to answered.
> 
> And of course, a continued thank you to my brilliant beta reader, Nightwing11 who may never forgive me for what i've done/will do to Poe, but reads it nonetheless. Keep soldiering on, brave reader. Your support and feedback will always be deeply valued. :D


	9. Be Brave and Don't Look Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phasma vs Finn! And other stuff, Leia makes an appearance, Rey does cool stuff, but let's be real, this is the important part: Showdowns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and then we get to the moment you've all been waiting for: stormpilot!!!! Well, unless you weren't waiting for that, in which case I don't know how far we are from what you were waiting for. Are you waiting for more Leia? For Luke? Maybe more Kylux? Answers about people's pasts? Maz? Chewie? Rey's relationship status? A particular ship? there's lots coming. I don't know what you're looking for, but odds are you'll find it here eventually.

Phasma’s fist clenched and Kass collapsed. Finn stared wide-eyed, his mind rocketing back to Kanji, to the terror on the young Jedi’s face when he had died. He’d been helpless then. Even though he’d grown since then, had gained so much more training, he still felt helpless. 

“No, no, no,” he muttered, planting his hand against the pillar and getting to one knee. He vaguely registered BB-8 racing out of the room and felt a twinge of abandonment.

Phasma smiled, ignoring him, and beckoned toward the fallen Kass. Moments later a soft, pink mist drifted toward the Sith Lord, gathering around her hand and then seeping into it. Phamsa brought her hand to her face, inhaling deeply through an open mouth. 

“Glorious,” she murmured, then flicked her fingers sharply in Finn’s direction just as he stood, slamming him against the pillar again. Something cracked and pain flared up mind-numbingly sharp in his torso. “Do you feel it, Master Finn? How could you not?”

“Leave it alone, Phasma,” Finn said, forcing the words out past broken ribs. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with!”

“ _ I _ don’t? I think I understand it a sight better than you ever could,  _ Jedi. _ You, who barely dip your fingers into the true power of the Force, fearfully withdrawing at the first hint of strength. Lest it corrupt you?” She chuckled. “You poor fool.”

“Better a fool than a monster,” he snarled, reaching again for the Force. If he could gather it around himself, the pain and injury wouldn’t matter for just a few minutes. He’d be able to stand, to fight. Win? Well, standing first. 

“No,” Phasma said, dragging him to her and gripping the top of his skull. 

He stiffened, body visibly shaking as he felt the Dark Side converge over him as encompassing as a bacta tank. And then all at once he could feel nothing of the Force at all. It was if he’d never been sensitive to it for even a moment. Finn’s eyes widened and he stared at her in stunned fear.

Phasma smiled. “Now then. Where is the Force Princess? Hiding on your stolen ship? Han Solo will be so pleased to have that back. And the Sovereign One will be so pleased to have the little princess. What else do you have squirreled away? A gift for the general too, perhaps?”

“You’re not getting anything,” Finn snarled through clenched teeth.

Phasma met his determined stare and after a moment, dropped him, striding backward with swift steps. “Stop me then!” she called, spreading her arms wide. “Let’s see what skill Leia Organa has trained into you.”

Finn straightened as much as he could, glancing around quickly for his lightsaber. There, halfway between him and the fallen Kass. When he shot a look back at Phasma, a small smile had grown on her face. She snapped her palm out, giving him a slight push back. 

Finn staggered, then dove for his saber. He rolled up onto one knee, his fingers brushing the lightsaber before another casual Force push from Phasma sent him rolling out of reach. Grimacing, he lunged again, this time twisting at the last second away from the weapon. The blast from Phasma missed him and he used the moment to snatch up his weapon.

Ribs screaming in agony, he dodged another blast of the Force, then got to his feet, meeting Phasma’s gaze. She tilted her head slightly, then drew one of her lightsabers. Holding it loosely in her hand, she beckoned to him. Finn gritted his teeth then charged.

She sideswiped his first swing, ducking under the second, laughing as she flipped through the air to avoid his next one. Finn stabbed the saber forward and missed, his chest tightening. He staggered, clutching his side as he pivoted around. Phasma shook her head as she watched him, her lightsaber still not even ignited. 

“This is the best Leia could teach you?” Phasma said with a scoff. “And the Sovereign One thought you were a threat.”

Finn scanned the room, trying to find something that could give him even a moment of an upper hand, when his eyes fell on Rey as she skidded into the room, BB-8 at her side. Her eyes widened as she took it all in. 

_ No. _

Finn threw himself at Phasma, anticipating her dodge this time and managing to sear his saber along her arm. Phasma hissed, springing backward. She narrowed her eyes, then jerked her head up and around, spotting Rey.

“Force Princess. Well now. Let’s make this quick.”

“Rey! Run!  _ Run! _ ” Finn cried, slashing at Phasma again. 

The Sith Lord spun toward him, her lightsaber flaring up to meet his. She snarled and pushed him away, following it up with an extension of the Force that wrapped around him, holding him in place. Finn struggled to move, to warn Rey away again, but he couldn’t do anything. Phasma’s lip curled up slightly as she held her hand out toward him. And then she clenched it and Finn’s world went  dark.

 

* * *

 

 

Leia sat quietly in a chair as the ship hurtled through space. She’d left behind her cream robes of office, opting for simple black pants and a flight jacket. A slightly oversized jacket that had once belonged to someone she loved. Ransolm Casterfo sat nearby, checking monitors, cleaning his blaster. She could sense the concern radiating off of him, directed towards her. She didn’t know how to soothe it. Not this time. Not unless she lied and she was far past lying to Casterfo.

“Any news from the Stiletto Squadron?” Casterfo asked, probably trying to move her mind off of Finn and the horrible evil he was walking into and to something safer, potentially safer.

“I redirected them to Kanata Castle,” Leia said. “The First Order didn’t withdraw as much as I had expected. Queen Maz needs the assistance.”

“But...the Falcon.”

She looked up at him with a knowing eyebrow raised. “You mean Han. Have I given up.”

Casterfo sighed softly. “Well? You’ve hunted down every rumor about the Falcon you were able to. But this one, this confirmed sighting, and you let it go?”

“Han’s not on that ship,” Leia said with a faint, saddened smile.

“How do you know? He could be.”

She touched the sleeve of her jacket lightly. “Because I know where he is. I’ve always known where he is. Han was never missing. Just absent.”

Casterfo ran a hand through his hair, his eyes averted from her grief hollowed by time. “Do you think he’ll ever return?”

Leia closed her eyes. “I don’t know. Even if he did, I don’t think he could possibly be the same person. Not after everything that’s happened. Not after where he’s been. I have to accept that Han and Ben are both gone.”

“You have to...You haven’t?” Casterfo asked in surprise.

A grief-stricken smile worked at her lips and she glanced at him. “Every time I think I’ve gained something, I lose something else. When Alderaan...I believed that would be the worst thing I could ever experience, the worst thing anyone could ever experience. But when Luke...and then Ben...how could I accept Han too? Knowing they’re all alive but completely out of reach...some days it’s too much.”

Casterfo didn’t speak for a long moment and Leia didn’t prompt him. She’d never confided any of this in him before, nor anyone. But Casterfo knew her well enough to guess as much. Her hot-headedness might have cooled over the years, but she still felt just as deeply as ever. She just kept it closer to herself than she used to. 

“Luke could come back,” Casterfo said at last, gifting back to Leia her own glimmer of hope that she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time. “If his father--your father--could redeem himself in the end and return to the light, then so can Luke Skywalker. Particularly with you standing so firmly in it, calling him back.”

Leia met his eyes and nodded. “There’s still good in him. I know it’s there, but I don’t...If I only knew what had turned him away in the first place.”

“This Sovereign One, clearly. Whoever he is,” Casterfo said. 

Leia exhaled softly and shook her head. “I just want to focus on Finn. That’s the only thing I really can do. Luke and Han...they’re out of my hands now.”

“For the moment,” Casterfo promised her. “Only for the moment.”

She started to say more, but then alarms blared through the ship. They both looked up in concern, hurrying to the cockpit. Their ship was dropping out of lightspeed.

“I didn’t do this,” Casterfo said as the streaks of stars solidified into specks again and a large blue planet appeared in front of them.

“No. It did,” Leia said, taking a deep breath. 

“The, the planet?”

She shook her head once. “What the planet imprisons.” And then she left the cockpit to grab her things, but she’d gone no further than the central space before the ship shuddered from an impact.

“We’re taking fire!” Casterfo shouted back at her.

“From whom?” Leia demanded, running back to him, already stretching out the Force to get a sense of the enemy.

A small but fearsome craft whisked in view, firing at them as it past. And then Leia felt the presence aboard.

“It’s Snoke,” she snarled. “Fire back! He’s trying to keep us from the surface. Phasma must already be here.”

Casterfo choked. “Phasma? Darth Phasma? You know, for an unknown planet, there seem to be an awful lot of people here!”

“Just fire, Ransolm!”

“And you’ll be doing what?”

“Dealing with Snoke,” she answered, taking the co-pilot’s seat.

He eyed her, even as he swerved past the next string of blasts. “ _ And  _ co-piloting?”

Leia laughed once. “Who said I was the co-pilot?” And then she switched the main controls over to her and sent the ship spiraling through space.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey saw Phasma extend her hand toward Finn and the princess thrust her arms in Phasma’s direction, sending a blast of Force. The Sith lord barreled backwards through the air even as Finn collapsed. 

“No,” Rey whispered, but she ran forward anyway while she had the chance, sliding to her knees beside Kass first, who was closer. “Kass?” Her guard didn’t move, a red mist slowly seeping from her body. Rey frowned, feeling darkness in that mist, but power too, and life. 

Phasma rose to her feet, looking sharply at Rey. “You’re feistier than I expected, princess.”

Rey reached into her skirt, pulling out her lightsaber. “You’ll get more than you bargained for,” she warned.

But Phasma only smiled. “I want nothing less.”

She launched herself across the room, lightsaber flashing. Rey’s own yellow blades smashed against the red blade with a crackle of energy. The Sith Lord’s eyes widened, but she immediately swung her blade again. Red and yellow crashed together again and again, Rey swirling her staffed saber to meet every precise thrust and swipe of Phasma’s. 

“A lightsaber! I  _ am  _ impressed,” Phasma said as they dueled and ducked.

Rey gritted her teeth, but didn’t answer, only pushed Phasma away, then splayed her fingers and tossed Phasma against the wall with the Force. 

Phasma didn’t strike the stone, however. 

The princess froze as she saw Phasma stop her momentum inches before impact. Her eyes glowed with a red haze and she held herself aloft. 

“BB-8, get out of here!” she urged. The little spherical droid let out a shriek of alarm, protesting leaving her alone with Kass and Finn both fallen.

Rey shot a glance toward the fallen Finn and then Phasma. She took three steps toward Finn before Phasma blasted her off her feet. Rey hurtled across the room, smashing against the statue.

Groaning, she got to her knees in time to see Phasma beckon to her. Rey felt the Force wrap around her, tugging her toward the Sith, but she dug in, pushing back as she steadily got to her feet. A surprised fury crossed Phasma’s face and she put both hands into it, power wafting off her in waves as she drew on the energy wrapped in and around Rakata Prime. Rey set her face in a snarl, bracing her feet and pushing against Phasma, even as she tugged herself away from the Sith, feeling the pressure building in her ears, against her skin, crushing her chest. 

“Get--out of here--BB-8!” she exclaimed. She didn’t see if the droid obeyed. She didn’t dare shift her focus enough to check or even worry another moment about it. 

The air shimmered somewhere between the women, so much force building that conflict was becoming visible. Rey’s arms shook and she slid a few inches forward, then a few inches more. Pain flared in one place than another--her chest, her arms, her back, her face, her legs--weakening aches coming rapidly in succession. She slid forward more, her knees buckling for a moment. Her focus wavered for just a moment and she stumbled several feet toward Phasma before she managed to stop herself. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to take a deep breath.

_ Let go, Rey _ , a soft voice whispered in her ear.

Rey grimaced, fighting harder. Phasma was not going to get to her so easily.

Except, it wasn’t Phasma’s voice.

_ Let go, _ the voice said again and all at once Rey understood why.

She opened her eyes and then let her arms fall. She rocketed across the room, but the abrupt lack of resistance startled Phasma and, before the two could collide, the Sith Lord repelled Rey away again. But this time Rey was ready. She gathered in her emotions and let go, of her fear, her anger, the horrifying sense of everyone dying for her sake, of what would happen if she were killed or captured, she let go of it all. The Force barreled away from her in all directions in a powerful hurricane of potency. The women’s power connected and exploded upon impact. They ricocheted in opposite directions, dust and flakes of stone raining from the ceiling. 

A dark daze settled over the princess, almost pushing her to unconsciousness, but not quite. She sat up, coughing out a cloud of dust and squinting around for Phasma. The Sith lay at the opposite end of the room, stirring. She planted one hand on the ground and Rey knew it was time to move. 

Sprinting first to Kass, Rey hoisted her bodyguard over her shoulder, a wave of exhaustion washing through her and nearly dropping her to her knees again. Rey braced herself against the after-effects of using her strongest gift, and turned toward Finn. 

Even as she staggered toward him, trying to figure out how she was possibly going to get him and Kass both to safety, Phasma lunged at her through the haze of dust. Rey stumbled back, swiping weakly with the Force. The Sith shook the blow off and kept coming, driving Rey back. A pale hand wrapped around Rey’s throat and Rey gagged, clawing at Phasma’s fingers. She kicked, connecting with the older woman’s knee and Phasma fell back with a snarl. Rey spun and lurched for the exit, half dragging Kass with her. 

Hurling them through the doorway, Rey fell against the wall, turning with bared teeth and bared will. The stone doorway trembled, then with a jerk of her arms, crumbled, blocking off the passage. It wouldn’t take Phasma long to get through, but hopefully it would slow her down just enough. She heard the fading sounds of BB-8’s panicked beeping far down the corridor and then there was silence. 

Rey paused just long enough to take a deep breath, tears falling down her face, and hold Kass tighter. She’d abandoned Finn, abandoned him to Phasma, to this planet. He’d saved her life, more than once, and this was how she responded. A faint sob escaped her and she covered her mouth with one hand.

“Please forgive me,” she whispered, then hoisted Kass back over her shaking shoulder and tottered down the passageway toward the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanking of Nightwing11 who helped me figure out what order to put the scenes in and what end results to go with.
> 
> Also feel free to visit my tumblr (floating-khoshek-floats.tumblr.com) for updates and excerpts and eventually, bonus content on this between postings and soon, some teasers of my next long fic. just search the force divided tag. :) Thanks for reading! See you soon with the next chapter!


	10. Old Sins and Long Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle to escape Rakata Prime continues, on the ground and in the air. What will happen to Finn? Will Rey escape? Who will prevail in the fight between Poe and Hux?   
> Listen, it's a chapter of space battles and unexpected Hux feels and lots of Leia feels and Phasma about to mess some crap up. it's way cooler than this summary. sorry. I dunno how to describe this one without sounding lame. But it's an update! And guess what's in the next chapter? That's right, Stormpilot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also concludes the quote-unquote "Part One" of the fic. Part two is gonna be very shippy. Lots of ships. Lots of angst, but lots of ships and the things that come with ships. Like tears. And pain. And regretful words. And misunderstood actions. And kissing. With tears. A single fluff. More pain. ACTion!!! Tears. lol. (there will be fluff. juuuust maybe not in "part two"). But shipssssss!!! All the ships ever.

Leia had forgotten what it felt like to be in a starbattle, the unexpected lurchings of her stomach as she twisted the ship in a spiral or flipped it, the racing of her heart at every bump and break in the deflector shield, the sweat that slid down her neck and made the controls slick in her hands. And the exhilaration. The exhilaration that could only come from sheer adrenaline and pure excitement. Every instant was dependent on her skill and instinct. Every moment a hair’s breadth from disaster. She loved it all. 

She’d forgotten she could.

Casterfo was an excellent gunner, quick on the controls and good at predicting her movements without them needing to speak. It allowed her to concentrate on Snoke instead of flying. She trusted Casterfo could take over the controls if she got too lost in her head. But if she did this right, Casterfo wouldn’t have to do anything.

Leia sent out her awareness, twisting through open space until she latched onto the other ship. She brushed past mind after mind, searching for the one in charge of it all. Then she found him, Snoke, felt the smug confidence buffeting off of him, his assurance of victory, of laurels and bounty, and then, satisfaction.

Leia jerked back quickly, afraid she’d find she’d made a terrible error and flown the ship into a laser cannon bolt or worse, but no, she was still flying just as smoothly, Casterfo still focused. Then what had been that bolt of satisfaction she’d felt from Snoke? 

She cast herself out again, finding Snoke much faster this time. Digging precisely into his mind, she let his emotions wash over her--grim exuberance, that satisfaction, relief, irritation, hatred, fear, anger--then settled in deeper, past his cyclone of raw feeling into his thoughts. They came fast and blurred, a mix of half-processed sensory information and flashes of words. 

_ A blink of the bridge, a stormtrooper, “Sir,” static,  _ **_unacceptable_ ** _ , flaring light out the cockpit, shouting and alarms,  _ **_that nuisance_ ** **,** _ “Destroy them!”  _ **_destroy,_ ** _ a stormtrooper--a child, dark-haired and wide-eyed, ( _ wait),  _ satisfaction, Phasma’s face, tightened throat,  _ **_she’ll see,_ ** _ ( _ wait, no),  _ the child again in a black tracksuit training with all the rest of the stolen children _ , (where?),  **_that nuisance_ ** _ straight into the line of fire--  _ (“Leia! What are you doing?”)-- _ the infant in his hands ( _ where is he!)--

_ Jedi Chancellor. _

Leia felt hands clamp around her, fingers like platinum and iron, clasping tightly around her projected self, freezing her in place, trapping her there in his mind.

_ They do not exaggerate your powers. I am impressed, but I’m afraid you need to leave now. _

She should have been more horrified by this clear use of the Force, from a bounty hunter no less, and such power, but she could barely focus on her. All she could think of were the glimpses of the infant, the child, her baby, her Ben. 

_ Where is he, Snoke?  _ she demanded, pushing back with her will. 

_ Out of your reach, where he will stay. _

Snoke shoved violently against Leia and her hold on him slipped. She snatched a fistful of his mind, but then she fell out of her chair, crashed into the floor and lost him completely.

“No!” she cried, jerking back into the ship as he shook and rumbled with hits.

“Leia!” Casterfo exclaimed. “The shield’s almost completely down. We’ve been hit bad and Snoke--”

“I’ve got Snoke,” Leia growled, getting to her feet. 

Snoke’s ship zoomed past the window and she lashed out with the Force. She seized hold of an external power coupling and yanked. Then the ship was past and she fell against the back of the chair as her ship shuddered again. 

“Did you do it?”

“We’ll find out if he lands,” she said. “Just keep dodging.”

Casterfo shot a glance at her. “Are you alright?”

Leia didn’t answer, her body aching from the incredible use of the Force, but worse, her heart had never been so sore. Ben. Her little Ben. Stolen by the First Order. The knowledge constricted her lungs and made her eyes water, but she’d weathered worse. She could weather this. Until the battle was over. And the war won.

“I’m fine. Keep flying.”

Then she realized her hand was clenched in a fist, the same mental hand she’d raked through Snoke’s mind and all at once, she realized what she’d taken from him. A number. A name.

BN-1983.

Her Ben. 

She raised her eyes as Casterfo fired on the other ship, watched as its power coupling finally reached critical and the ship was forced to land. 

_ You can’t hide him from me anymore, Snoke. _

 

* * *

 

Hux had never been so grateful to have a stormtrooper than he was right then. Of course, he’d never expected to be grateful to have a stormtrooper at all, but he was and here was Hux’s gratitude and awe both, building with every well-aimed laser bolt directed at Phasma’s ship. 

Her pilot, whomever they were, was quite skilled, but not enough to match Ben. Or perhaps they were simply out of practice. Either way, Ben’s cunning attacks pushed Hux’s piloting on par with the First Order pilot. Without the trooper, Hux knew he would have been horribly outclassed, but together they could win this. 

The modified shuttle whisked overhead of the Falcon, upside down, and Hux got a glance of the pilot grinning like an idiot as he fired fiercely. The Falcon’s cannon twisted to track him, a shot bouncing off its hull. 

“Keep it up, Ben!” Hux called through the intercom system. “He can’t dodge us forever.”

“Sir,” Ben affirmed.

And then the communicator crackled, Princess Rey’s voice coming through, hoarse and breathless.

“--Hux! We need--pick us--Not much time!”

Hux slammed his hand against the communicator. “Princess? Is Master Finn with you?”

“--explain later! Please--need to--hurry!”

“Princess, there’s some interference with the--ah!” He flinched back from the window as a bolt slammed against the shield. “Get to the landing site. We’ll be there.”

He pulled up the planet-side navigator, trying to get a good view of the patch of beach they’d left behind. 

“Ben! Keep him off our backs. We have a tricky bit of pick up to do.”

“Yes, sir,” Ben replied. 

Hux shook his head faintly at the ‘sir,’ but couldn’t say he hated it. The unmistakable ring of authority and respect sat well with him. But then he focused his attention back on landing. He twisted the Falcon in a sharp roll, Phasma’s shuttle arrowing right down the middle of the spin. 

“Alright. You’re scraping the rust off very quickly, I see,” Hux muttered, bringing the Falcon down low and fast.

He rocketed only meters above the shoreline, the shuttle right behind, then made a sharp turn into a canyon, twisting the Falcon on its edge. The shuttle jerked up suddenly, too wide to make the narrow crevice, no matter which way it turned, but Hux could see it just above the divide. He sent the sonar out ahead of the ship, praying they could pull up before it abruptly narrowed or worse, except pulling up would put him straight in the sight of the shuttle. At the moment, the forest and the canyon’s constant twisting protecting the Falcon from most blasts, but even with Jedi reflexes, Hux didn’t know how long he could last.

“I’m at the beach,” the princess said over the comm. “--are you--no time!”

“I’ll be there shortly, Princess. Just stay down and out of the way.” He turned off the communicator, then turned to the intercom. “Ben?”

“Sir?”

“Prepare for heavy fire. I’m moving all shields to our rear and--”

“Sir, I--of course, sir.”

Hux frowned, deliberating as he saw the canyon narrowing quickly. “Tell me.”

“Put deflectors to the front and flip the ship as soon as we emerge. I’ll cover our tail. Sir.”

Hux didn’t have time to consider it. He followed Ben’s suggestion, switching the shields to cover the front of the ship just as he sent it roaring up out of the canyon. He didn’t know if he could indeed ‘flip the ship,’ but he let it rocket straight upward, then leaned it back, flying it upside down above the shuttle. By the time the shuttle had turned around, Hux was back in the canyon, pushing the limits of the space and ship’s capacity and bursting out the end in record speed.

He kept low, just below the treeline, nearly crashing the ship into the beach, but not quite. Once the ship stopped shaking, Hux let out a faint sigh that turned into a faintly hysterical chuckle. 

“Calm yourself, Hux,” he said, finally having the state of mind to open the hatch. “Keep a lookout, Ben. He’ll be back. Princess?”

“I’m here!” Princess Rey called from the back of the ship. She sounded worse in person than she had on the static-heavy comm. 

Hux quickly left his chair, rushing to the back as fast as his injuries allowed to find the droid BB-8 helping Rey dragging herself and her guard onto the ship. The guard looked dead. The princess didn’t seem far from it.

Hux stared at them, then shot a look at the hatch, searching in vain for one more. Perhaps disheveled, maybe bearing a few injuries that could have been avoided if Hux had been along, but present, alive, safe. But Finn didn’t appear.

“Where’s Master Finn?” Hux asked, his voice smaller than he thought it could be, swamped by this fear he had never known he could feel. 

Finn always came back. Nothing could hurt the Jedi Master. Not for long, not for good. The one undeniable truth of Hux’s life since becoming a Jedi was that Master Finn would always be there. It was what Hux had clung to through dark days and long nights and crippling insecurity. Master Finn would be there and he’d keep Hux safe. He was more than Hux’s master, he was his brother. 

The princess met his gaze and looked away, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“No,” Hux whimpered. “We, we have to go back!”

“We can’t,” Rey replied. “I barely made it out at all. The temple’s collapsing and Darth Phasma is right behind us! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Hux, but Finn--” She squeezed her eyes shut. 

The stormtrooper’s voice came over the intercom, “Incoming. If we’re leaving, it needs to be now.”

Hux sent a last, long look down the hatch, hoping against hope to find his master running towards them, but the beach remained empty, except for the incoming shuttle blasting up the beach with its laser cannons, and just at the tree line, Darth Phasma. 

Cursing under his breath, Hux lurched back to the cockpit, raising the hatch even as he took off. He aimed for the stars and punched it, part of him expecting an enormous hand to rise out of the earth and seize the ship. 

They took a hit, but shrugged it off, then another. Hux readied the jump to lightspeed and received several error lights. 

“Damn, damn, damn,” he muttered, trying to dodge the shuttle as they broke atmosphere. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an unfamiliar ship going the opposite direction, heading to the surface of the damnable Rakata Prime. The shuttle struck again, one hit, two, three, each causing more damage than before, when suddenly a small, discrete cruiser soared into view, firing back at the shuttle. 

Struggling to get the hyperdrive back on, while answering the new ship’s hail, Hux felt inexorable relief to hear, “This is Jedi Chancellor Leia Organa. Problem with the hyperdrive, Falcon?”

“Yes!” Hux cried. “This is, this is Hux, Jedi Chancellor. I...I have the Force Princess.”

“Good work, Hux,” the Jedi Chancellor said, her ship darting around the Falcon, driving back Phasma’s shuttle. “Give the blue toggle a few bumps. The thing was always glitchy. Bad springs in the switch.”

Astonished, but too relieved by their rescue and awash with guilt and grief, he didn’t think about it, just obeyed her suggestion. The warning lights shut off.

“Make the jump!” the Jedi Chancellor ordered.

Hux glanced briefly at the horrible blue planet that had done so much to them all, then jammed the lever up and watched the stars bleed.

 

* * *

 

Phasma was furious. Not only had the Force Princess somehow escaped her grasp, now she was dealing with the crash-landed Snoke until Dameron finished the repairs on both ships. Worse still, the Jedi Chancellor had been here, just outside the atmosphere, and Phasma had to report to the Sovereign One. She oversaw the movement of her only prize, the Jedi Finn, to Snoke’s ship, seeing him secured in a retainment cell, then located Dameron.

“Progress report,” she demanded.

Dameron pushed up the blast guard over his face, switching off his laser torch. “Flyable short distance in half an hour, but getting all the way back will be a bit longer. Ol’ Leia did a number on this thing.” Dameron paused and then sent her a curious look. “The bounty hunter’s not lying? That was really the Jedi Chancellor up there?”

“Yes. Which is the only reason you’re still alive.”

He stiffened. “I...what? What did I do this time?”

“You let them escape,” she snarled. “I ought to blame you for the Jedi Chancellor herself sliding out of our hold, but she is too powerful for mere mortals.”

“Mere--I didn’t see you trying to outfly everyone and their dog up there!”

“Watch your tone, Dameron,” Phasma barked, nearly breaking his neck with her power, restraining herself just in time. The raw energy of the planet, plus all the life force she’d consumed from the woman and the Jedi had Phasma bristling with unused power, tendrils of it snapping away from her. She was used to be being at the maximum of her potential, something she worked hard to ensure she never strayed from, but this was more volatile. She liked her razor-edged control. She liked the fear it induced and the precision it required. She did not like this, this wildness. She needed an outlet, soon. 

But not Poe.

The inventor at least seemed to sense how close he had come to death and shut up, looking away and snapping the blast guard down into place. 

“Get it done,” Phasma said heavily. “Quickly. Then take Snoke and his crew and get out.”

Dameron paused, then hesitantly asked, “And you? My lord.”

“I’ll fly my shuttle myself. See that it’s ready.”

“As you wish...Lord Phasma.”

The unmocking deference grated on her, coming from Dameron, and Phasma whirled away before she could lash out again, stalking back to the temple. It had survived the Force Princess’s little onslaught, though a wall had collapsed in the inner sanctum and most of the main corridor was buried. Phasma stood there before the statue for a long moment, her victory turned defeat souring her mouth. How had it happened? She’d had them. She’d had them both.

_ I lost control. _

And she had. Drunk on the sheer power of Rakata Prime, on the  _ being  _ entombed in its very fibers, she had been reckless, unbridled, arrogant. She had let them come to her instead of simply taking them out. Her strength lay in perfect control, not overwhelming power.

_ But you can have both. _

Phasma stiffened. 

_ You are Darth Phasma, the first true Sith Lord since Darth Vader, and greater than him by far. The more power you gain, the more  _ reserves _ you gain, the more you can control it. And the more you can control… _

Her eyes rose to the statue. More reserves, more control, more power. Enough to take down the Jedi Chancellor once and for all. Enough to annihilate the New Republic. Enough to seize the entire galaxy, the entire universe. Wasn’t it all what she had always worked toward? The scale was just bigger now. 

She opened her comm and dialed the Sovereign One, setting her comm on a pile of rubble and kneeling within its sensor as the Sovereign One appeared, his face obscured as always. 

“My lord, I bring news,” she said, bowing her head.

“Lord Phasma. Tell me what you know.”

“The Force Princess...has escaped. Factors were at play that I...did not account for, my lord. It will not happen again.”

“No. It will not. You and Snoke have twice failed to bring the princess to me. Neither of you will be given a third chance to fail.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“What else?”

“I have captured the Jedi Master, Finn. I offer him to you as tribute, my lord.”

“I have no need of the Jedi now. Keep him in your custody until I do.”

Phasma inclined her head again. “There is more.”

“Tell me then.”

“The Jedi Chancellor was here. It was through her intervention that the Force Princess escaped.”

The Sovereign One’s head tilted faintly. “Ah. Now things begin to make sense. So she’s stepped into the fray at last. Such restraint.” He shook his head once. “Report back immediately, Phasma. I have a new task for you upon your arrival.”

“Of course, my lord,” Phasma said, glancing once at the statue. “But I have something more. This planet, Rakata Prime, it is ripe with the Dark Side, my lord. There is a presence here, a power unlike I have ever experienced, more powerful than even you.”

“I has awoken,” the Sovereign One said slowly. “Yes, I felt it.”

Phasma raised her head. “You know of it? My lord, Sovereign One, it can be freed. If we released such a force onto the New Republic, they would crumble in an instant.”

“They would.”

She stood. “Let me free it, lord. Let me bring you a weapon that will ensure victory!”

The Sovereign One stood in silence for a long moment and then said, “No.”

“No…?”

“Do not question my orders. The presence on Rakata Prime stays where it is,” he said. “Return to me immediately.”

Before Phasma could respond, the transmission cut off and she was alone. Phasma stared at the communicator, anger swirling in her abdomen. If he could just  _ feel _ what she felt standing here, if he understood what lay at her feet, he would not dare say no. The universe would bow to them with such a weapon, so pure in the Dark Side, such undiluted hatred and anger.

_ Then make him see _ , something whispered in her mind, a coagulate of her thoughts and a voice that echoed from far beneath. 

Phasma gazed at the statue and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to Nightwing11 for beta-ing and yelling at me and threatening Phasma with Chicago lyrics because frankly, she had it coming. Thank you for feeling for Hux. And telling me my experiments worked. :D


	11. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon the Millennium Falcon once again, Leia revisits some parts of her life. 
> 
> In memory of Carrie Fisher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow.”--Carrie Fisher. 
> 
> Rest in Peace, General. You are one with the Force and the Force is with you.

Safe in her personal hangar on Hosnian Prime, Leia stepped up the ramp, wandering into the Millennium Falcon. She trailed her fingers along the curved walls, memories washing over her. Her impressed disdain the first time she saw the ship, the fear and hope of that first escape, cheering in the cockpit as they wiggled free and then practicality returning. She remembered with heavy embarrassment her attempts to make Han jealous, kissing the stranger who ended up being her long-lost twin. 

Stepping into the cockpit, Leia could almost see them all again, crowded into the small space, she and Han bickering across a slightly baffled Luke. 

_ Your friend is quite the mercenary. I wonder if he really cares about anything...or anyone. _

_ I care! _

She sat in the pilot’s chair, brushing her hand over the controls, warm memories of Han’s hands over hers as he taught her the finer points of piloting before she taught him a few finer points of other things. 

_ And I thought I was the scoundrel, Your Worship. _

_ You’ve always known I’m more rebel than princess. _

_ Mm, maybe. Why don’t you prove it? _

_ Why don’t you? _

Leia closed her eyes, then left the cockpit, wandering past ghostly visions of the past, Chewbacca under the floors making repairs, Luke injured in the small med bay with his wrist stump scorched, dancing with Han by starlight, her early lessons in the Force with Luke and annoying him with her confidence in herself. 

She saw herself in a vicious argument with Han, a dark period of spice addiction following the battle of Endor that was still a struggle some days. She saw a different sort of argument between them, entangled on the bench wearing nothing, bickering blissfully over position. There she was, holding a precious hologram of her father, Bail, some banal message to Mon Mothma, but precious nonetheless for bearing his face, his voice, her name. Down this corridor, she saw herself sitting on the floor, weeping where no one could see her, over what, she couldn’t remember anymore. 

Then here she came, waddling along in foul temper, pregnant and irritable, an equally irritated Han storming behind her, fighting over who knew what and ending in the sweetest kiss she could ever remember. There they were, watching baby Ben toddle along at an awkward run after Chewbacca, the Wookie pretending to be afraid, Han almost crying from laughter. She slept on this bench here, Ben asleep in her arms. She woke to Han covering her shoulders with a blanket, kissing her forehead.

In the present, Leia stopped, closing her eyes against the lifetime of memories made on this ship, so many wonderful ones, so many awful ones, but well-lived ones, every moment felt fully. She had never felt home anywhere since Alderaan, but the Falcon was as close as it came, though home felt hollow without her loved ones in it. 

A soft footstep behind her raised her head. Princess Rey stood there, watching with hesitant concern.

“Are...you alright Jedi Councillor?”

Leia smiled gently. “Just...feeling the loss of another life.”

“You know this ship, don’t you?”

“Yes. It belongs to the father of my child.” She gave a little nod and another small smile. “It’s a good ship. I thought it had been destroyed.”

“Only partly,” Rey replied. “I found the wreckage and I’ve been restoring it.”

“I’m glad. It’s time for it to fall into new hands I think.” Leia took a breath and straightened. “We should get to the war room. We need to discuss Finn with the council.”

Rey hesitated. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Leia nodded. “I’m full of remembrance,” she explained simply. “And loss.” She raised her head and looked at Rey, seeing so much of her younger self reflected there. A feisty princess and unrelenting fighter. Oh, but Rey had much more patience. “But hope too.”

“Hope?” Rey asked, her jaw trembled and she clenched it. “How? We’ve lost Finn. I...I lost Finn.”

Leia crossed to her and gently laid her hand on her cheek. “I know we’ll find him. You will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m sure because if I with all my flaws could overcome all I have, I know you with all your strengths can overcome this.”

“But I’m not you. I’m not that powerful. I’m not that...I don’t think I can do this. Any of this. I’ve been so very wrong about so many things. I’m...I’m so afraid.”

Leia took her hand, meeting her eyes fiercely. “Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow.”

Rey stared back, wide-eyed, but then finally her expression settled into determination. She nodded, squeezing the older princess’ hand. Leia smiled and then let go, gesturing toward the ramp.

“Go on. I’ll be right beside you.”


	12. Misplaced Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe Dameron meets Jedi Master Finn. At last.

The ship jumped into hyperspace and Poe hastily left the cockpit, wanting to be as far away from Snoke and his constant gaze as he could get. He didn’t like Snoke. Something was very wrong about that bounty hunter. He dropped down into the cargo hold where all of Snoke’s remaining troopers gathered, uneasy and informal. Some of them had even removed their helmets, though they jerked toward them when Poe descended. Seeing it was only him, they all relaxed marginally. 

“Orders?” one asked.

Poe paused then chuckled and backed away. “Not from me.” He opened the door at the back of the cargo hold that led to the pair of containment cells. They were supposed to be holding the Force Princess, but instead one held an injured Jedi.

Poe stood outside the door for a moment, watching the dark-skinned man sitting on the narrow bench as he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. He’d been battered, cuts dashed about his face and hands. His traditional robes were torn and dirty, the outer robe lost entirely. Phasma had told Poe that the Jedi’s connection to the Force was severed, rendering him much less dangerous, but restraints were still clipped around his wrists nonetheless. Even without the Force, a Jedi was still powerful.

He didn’t look dangerous to Poe. 

The engineer took a deep breath then opened the door and entered the cell. The Jedi opened his eyes. Confusion crossed his face a moment, but then he sat up a little straighter, a flicker of pain running through him.

“Aren’t you a little underdressed for a stormtrooper?” the Jedi said.

Poe raised his eyebrow, glancing down at his grease-smudged flight suit that no First Order officer would be caught dead or alive in. It looked as worn as it was. Plus he’d burned a new and large hole in the sleeve fixing the ship and could feel the red indents in his forehead from the blast guard.

“I’m not big on uniforms,” Poe answered, a little uncertainly. “And I’m not a trooper.”

This Jedi was not what he’d been expecting and he couldn’t forget that he’d trained with Leia herself. Part of him wondered when Leia had found this man. Had Poe still been her soldier? Had he met this Jedi when they were young? He didn’t think so. He felt sure he’d remember soft brown eyes like those. 

“Then who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Poe,” he supplied quickly. “I, I’m an inventor, well, engineer.”

“What are you doing here then?” the Jedi asked. “What does Darth Phasma need an engineer for?”

“I’m her pilot.”

“Not very decisive, are you?”

Poe made a loose gesture with one hand. “I just do what I’m told. If that requires getting a little creative, then creative I get.”

“So you serve the First Order by choice,” the Jedi said, sitting back with a sort of resigned disappointment. Like he’d been hoping for something else, someone else, but was not surprised to not find them.

Poe hesitated, then held up his small medkit. “So you tried to fight Phasma. Pretty gutsy, Jedi.” He opened up the kit and then sat down next to the Jedi Master.

“Someone had to stop her from killing Kass.” The Jedi looked down. “Though I think I was too late.”

“Kass...a friend?”

“Yes.”

Poe paused, fiddling with the contents of the kit before looking up. “But wait. I thought Jedi could sense when people died. Wouldn’t you know?”

The Jedi shook his head. “Phasma...she did something, cut me off from the Force. I can sense as much as you can. I don’t even know if the princess escaped.”

“The Force Princess? Oh she escaped. The Jedi Chancellor intervened and cut off pursuit.”

The Jedi sat up, then winced, but didn’t stop his movement. “The Jedi Chancellor? Leia was there?”

Poe licked his lips, worried he’d given the Jedi hope and more worried he’d snatch it away. “That’s what Phasma said. Seemed like her kind of flying. She always had a renegade style.”

The Jedi’s forehead furrowed and he paused then sat back, gaze dropping. “At least Rey’s safe.”

Poe gnawed on his lip a moment then said, “Listen. What’s your name?”

“...It’s Finn.”

“Finn. You’re gonna be fine. They’ll interrogate you for information probably, but just tell them useless things that seem important and they’ll leave you alone otherwise. Huh?” 

Finn stared straight ahead, already resigned to torture, or more. Poe supposed that for a Jedi, being cut off from the Force was probably a kind of torture in itself.

“They’ll interrogate me, then they’ll torture me, then they’ll probably kill me, or worse.” 

“They won’t--” But Poe stopped, confused. “What could be worse than death?” 

“Turning me to the Dark Side.” 

Poe scoffed. “You’d never do that.” He didn’t know this Jedi, but he knew Jedi in general well enough to know that Jedi didn’t just ‘turn to the Dark Side.’ Not even the First Order could torture someone into that. 

Finn looked at him. “What if I’m not given a choice?” 

“That’s not possible. You can’t force someone to the Dark Side or the Light. It’s a, a--it’s up to you. It’s your decision.” 

The Jedi turned his gaze away again. “Yeah. That’s the theory.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Ever hear of Luke Skywalker?” 

“...Of course. Who hasn’t?” 

“He used to be a Jedi Knight, fought alongside his sister the Jedi Chancellor for peace and justice. Then one day he just suddenly...walks away from it all. Joins the First Order. He was one of the noblest, purest souls in the galaxy. He’d never turn willingly. It was the Sovereign One. He did something to Luke.” 

“You can’t know that,” Poe said, a little desperately, needing it to be false for this beautiful man’s sake. If it was a lie, then his worst fears couldn’t come true. He couldn’t be turned against his will.

“I’ve studied Jedi history,” Finn said evenly. “I went with Master Leia Organa to the old temples, to the archives of Coruscant. She was looking for answers, about Luke. It’s happened before, Jedi turned to the Dark Side against their will. Darth Revan, Darth Abram. More. It happened to Luke and the First Order is just...biding their time, waiting for the most effective moment to send him out against Leia. And they’ll do the same to me. Of course, that’s supposing Phasma didn’t sever my connection to the Force forever.”

“She didn’t. She can’t. And it won’t happen to you,” Poe insisted. “You’re not going to become a Sith.”

“They won’t give up a Jedi. There’s too few Sith to do that.”

“I won’t let it happen to you!”

Finn paused, a faint touch of surprise touching his battered face, but then he met Poe’s eyes and leaned forward. “You’re First Order. When it matters, you’ll do what you’re told.”

Poe’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re the enemy.”

“I have my reasons.”

Finn recoiled slightly, forehead furrowing with anger. “What reasons could you possibly have for supporting murderers and tyrants? How could you support an organization that allows someone like Phasma to exist?”

“She’s not so…”  _ Bad? How can you say that  _ him, _ Poe?  _ The engineer grimaced. “She has her moments.”

“She certainly had her moments today,” Finn said, with a glance at his broken ribs and clench of his fists. “I’d ask how you can possibly defend her, but I don’t have to. You’re her pilot?” Finn shook his head.

“You don’t understand!” Poe said. He’d never been this desperate to make someone understand him, understand everything he had done, was doing. Maybe it was because this man worked side by side with Leia Organa, or maybe it was because he was the closest Poe had been to the people he’d left behind and betrayed than he had been in years, but he needed Finn to comprehend it all.

“I do understand,” Finn said with a hard voice, expression stony as he twisted against ribs and restraints to face Poe. “I’ve been on the other side. The First Order? I used to wave their flag, cheer their name. When the Sovereign One passed by, I held my breath in reverence. I saluted Han Solo. I worshiped the general. I thought they were heroes. But I was a child; I didn’t understand: They’re criminals, all of them. I saw the truth when they ransacked my home planet for resources--a place they had sworn to protect--conscripting my people into their service, their army. I saw how they treated the ones they called theirs, their own supporters, and I saw how they treated their enemies. When Master Leia came, I was glad to escape. I didn’t care that I was leaving my home and family and everything I’d known to become someone and something I barely understood. It was freedom from the First Order at last. Leia, she became all the family I needed.”

Poe looked down, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah. I loved her too once.”

“You are that Poe, aren’t you? Poe Dameron. The traitor. That’s why you can recognize Leia’s flying.”

“Wow. I’m still pretty famous in those parts, am I?” Poe said with a faint, crooked smile.

Finn’s stern expression only darkened. “You were everyone’s hero, the best pilot in the New Republic. Some people said you were Master Leia’s son, the way her son never had a chance to be. And then you betrayed them all. Famous is one word for it. Despised is a better one.”

Poe stared at the Jedi, feeling a hollowness in his stomach that he thought he’d learned to quelch long ago. He looked away. “Well, they haven’t forgotten me,” he said off-handedly.

“They haven’t forgotten Vader either,” Finn replied.

The pilot raised his head, a sharp line of anger cutting through him. “Are you comparing me to  _ Darth _ flekking  _ Vader _ ? I’m an inventor, Jedi, an engineer! Not a murderer. I’m not killing whole planets of people or torturing prisoners. I’m, I’m fixing droids and making weird little devices that I’m not even sure what they do. Don’t compare me to Darth Vader. Don’t you dare.”

The Jedi pushed himself painfully upright, despite broken ribs and restraints. “You’re an inventor, you say? Fixing droids and making little devices? Ever think about what they’re being used for? Who’s using them? You know who created the Death Star? Inventors and engineers. Darth Vader used it, but he didn’t make it.”

“They were following orders! Some of them under duress.”

“They chose to be there! That was their decision, your decision!”

“Not all of them! What about, what about the officer who sabotaged the Death Star?”

“So you’re under duress then? Tearing down the First Order from the inside?”

“No. Of course not,” Poe protested. “I am loyal!”

Finn leaned forward, teeth bared. “Loyal to who? You want to claim innocence in assisting oppression? Why are you with the First Order at all?”

Poe pressed his lips together. “I have to be.”

“What sort of answer is that? Are they threatening your family? I don’t think so. I’ve met your father. Kes Dameron. He’s the only family you have, right? He’s a complete mess, so much so that he lives in Master Leia’s house because she’s afraid of what he might do to himself. First Order can’t touch him, but they don’t really need to. You did that well enough yourself, so that can’t be it. Why are you with the Order?”

The emptiness in his abdomen opened up, threatening to swallow him and Poe stood, throwing the medkit at Finn. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. You’re the enemy and a prisoner.”

“That just means you don’t have an answer at all,” Finn replied. “Or you just did it for greed and power. I shouldn’t be surprised. Master Leia said she always knew what you’d do.”

Poe slashed his hand through the air. “This is Leia’s fault!” he snapped. “So stop talking like you know me or anything I’ve done. You don’t have the slightest idea!”

Before the Jedi could say anything more, Poe left the cell, regretting ever entering it. Shaking slightly from anger, he re-entered the now empty cockpit in time for a transmission from Phasma. Grimacing, Poe stamped down his emotions, trying to summon up the cocky nonchalance Phasma expected, and answered it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be  _ on _ the ship and I’m supposed to be flying the Falcon amidst fanfare, mostly provided by me, and much cheering?” he asked.

“Shut up and listen, Dameron,” Phasma snapped. 

She was testy, testier than he’d heard her in a while. He supposed that losing the Force Princess when she was so close, literally in Phasma’s grasp, would cause that. 

He’d never faced the Sovereign’s One wrath. He’d been very careful to never attract so much attention, good or bad, to have to face the Sovereign One. He wasn’t keen on having his mind combed through on a whim. But he’d heard about the Sovereign One’s anger, seen it inflicted on other people, and could understand that Phasma wasn’t just frustrated at being thwarted. 

She was afraid.

“Shutting up,” he muttered.

“Despite the loss of the princess, the Sovereign One has no need of the Jedi.”

Poe sat up a little straighter, unease crawling down his spine, one spindly hand at a time. 

“I’ve been given control of him,” Phasma continued. “I want him installed into my Collection upon arrival.”

He frowned. “You know, I just designed the weird thing. I don’t know how it actually works because, shock of all shocks, I don’t have mystical powers.”

“The Force isn’t necessary to commit the Jedi. A man of your talents should figure it out with any problems. Particularly because you designed it.”

Poe sighed, running a hand over his beard. “Why can’t you just keep him with all the other prisoners? You severed his connection to the Force, right? He can be kept in a regular cell.”

“You think my Collection is a prison?” Phasma chuckled faintly to herself. “Just get it done, Dameron. And do not let Han Solo near it.” 

This made Poe draw back. “Why?” he asked suspiciously. 

“These are orders, Dameron. Do not question them; follow them.”

Another sigh from Poe and he just muttered, “Fine.”

Phasma didn’t waste time with a reply. The transmission clicked out and Poe slumped forward against the console. All at once he felt extremely tired. 

Squeaks wheeled into the room and chittered. Poe let his arm drop down and the droid moved to brush against his hand. He patted the droid absently.

“I need a very long nap,” he told it, then sat up and took over the ship’s controls. The stars were lovely, blinking in the dark and deep sky, but he had promises to keep, and many lightyears to travel before he could rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Nightwing11 for beta-ing! I couldn't write this without you.


	13. Brave Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey makes a decision and meets a surprising hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a star wars season miracle. I've updated. if I have any readers left, lol, enjoy. It's short, alas, but it's an update all the same.

Ships flew quietly by above Hosnian Prime, the entire planet bracing themselves for...what, they did not know. Jedi-Chancellor Leia had been holed up with the Senate for the past four hours with no show of stopping. She had left Rey with the Falcon and now Rey wasn’t sure what to do. She was afraid to stop and rest, certain that if she did she would pass out, and after last time, she didn’t dare, but she had nothing to consume herself with now. 

The Falcon was being combed over by Leia’s people like it was a holy relic. Hux and the stormtrooper had been taken away to sit in bacta tanks for the night. They’d tried to usher Rey away too, but she didn’t let them, submitting to only the least of medical aid. They had taken Kass away from her too. Rey had tended Kass the whole way to Hosnian Prime, but when the medics had taken her away with far less speed than the other two, Rey didn’t ask why. She couldn’t face that.

BB-8 followed her out of the hangar to an empty landing pad. It was more peaceful out here, the only sound the wind and the steady passing of ships. No people to disturb her with questions about her identity, about Finn, about what had gone so horribly wrong in fetching her. She tried to grasp hold of Leia’s words, but they seemed more tenuous with her gone. 

The little droid gave an inquiring chirp and Rey just sighed. “I don’t know, BB-8. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

BB-8 let out a sad whistle, then turned its head and beeped a greeting and warning both. Rey looked up and turned to see an odd sight approaching. An older man riding a droid not unlike BB-8, but larger, a little more oblong, and clearly designed with the man in mind. Old burns and scars littered his brown face and the hand gripping onto a handle on the droid’s ‘shoulder’ was made of old parts inexpertly welded together. His dark hair and goatee were greying, but despite his somewhat alarming first appearance, he had a kind face and gave off the softest presence.

Rey brushed back her wildly mussed hair and tipped up her chin, not ready, but willing to face whatever probing and prying this man was going to do. The droid rolled to a gentle stop a polite distance away, leaving the man just slightly above eye level with the princess. 

“Are, are you Rey?” he asked, his voice hoarse in a way that suggested it was permanent.

She gave a nod. “Yes.”

He touched his hand to his chest. “I’m Bodhi. Mon Mothma sent me to...keep you company?”

“Oh. That’s...kind of you both,” Rey said, trying to think of a polite way to refuse, but while Maz had taught her a thousand different useful things, diplomacy wasn’t the one she emphasized, “but I’m not in the best shape for company.”

He gave a small smile. “I’m not either. But I do know how to get other places than the hangar. If you wanted to clean up. Or, or eat.”

Rey glanced down at her tattered clothing. “You make a good point.” She summoned up a smile she didn’t at all feel. “Thank you, Bodhi.”

“Oh, you're welcome, of course. This is Osso,” he said, patting the droid he rode. It emitted a low rumble like a purr. “Osso, meet Rey. Or, or is it Princess?”

“Rey is fine,” Rey said. “Hello, Osso.”

BB-8 whirred its own greeting, summoning another soft rumble from the larger droid. It didn’t seem to have a clear head, but Rey finally spotted sensors running all the way around its perimeter, and the narrowest point at the front definitely had a pair of lights that rather resembled eyes. As she noticed that, the front section tilted up, revealing a nearly imperceptible crease. Low light emitted from the headlights as the droid studied Rey, then BB-8, then let out a chuf and the lights dimmed. 

“I’ve never heard of that droid designation,” Rey remarked, eyebrows raised at the droid. “But I’ve also never seen a droid quite like Osso.”

“She’s actually unique,” Bodhi replied with a smile. “Some friends helped me design and build her, so that meant she’s not really any specific unit. I just called her R1-OSSO.”

A glimpse of melancholy flickered across Bodhi’s face at the full name and Rey looked away, pretending not to notice. “She’s a clever design,” she said instead, stepping back to examine the genius in the droid’s build. “What’s her primary function?”

“She’s my...ship,” Bodhi said with a little chuckle. “She takes me places.”

Rey lifted her head, confused, then took in Bodhi completely, the brace wrapped around his torso, the small clamps holding his lower half in place. Her face reddened. 

“I see. But why…” She stopped and bit her lip, not sure if it was polite to ask.

“It was too late to do much fixing,” Bodhi answered, then gestured toward the doorway, Osso rolling backwards than pivoting around Bodhi’s spot to face front again as they moved toward the exit. “But you should decide: food first, or cleaning up?”

“I suppose cleaning up,” Rey said with a glance at BB-8.

“Done,” Bodhi replied with an easy smile, leading her onto a lift. The doors closed and she felt it start to rise. 

After some silence, Rey asked, “Did you fight against the First Order?”

“Not really. I mostly just do favors from time to time now.”

“Like looking after me,” Rey said, a little more bitterly than she meant. She knew she deserved a babysitter after all the damage she had managed to cause so far.

“That is an honor, truly,” Bodhi assured her. “And from what I have heard, you did not have an easy time getting here. I...know something about that kind of thing. But, but mostly I’m just here to be a...friend. And tour guide?”

“How can I say no to that?” Rey said kindly. 

Bodhi smiled in response, then after a pause awkwardly added, “I fought in the Rebellion. That is how...Osso came to be...required.”

Rey stared up at him, awe on her face. He was a hero of the rebellion? Maz had told her stories, of the main heroes like Leia and Han Solo and Luke Skywalker, but also of the less famous ones, like General Calrissian, Wedge Antilles, Jyn Erso. She didn’t know all their names--how could she--but it was enough to know Bodhi was one such rebel. They had changed the entire galaxy by standing up to tyranny.

“You fought with the Rebellion?” she repeated eagerly. “What battles? Did you help with any famous missions? The Death Star?”

Bodhi nodded. “Yes, I...I was involved with the, the Death Star. I'm the...the pilot,” he said, the phrase coming off a little rehearsed, no, not rehearsed. Like a mantra.

She tilted her head in confusion. “But I thought Luke Skywalker destroyed it.”

Bodhi nodded, eyes focused elsewhere. “I'm the pilot,” he repeated then stopped there long enough that Rey thought it was the end of the story. But just as the lift stopped, he looked at her and added, “We stole the plans.”

And then he and Osso rolled out of the lift. Rey's eyes widened as he left and then she chased after him, BB-8 whistling behind her in confusion.

“You're talking about Rogue One!” she exclaimed. “The team that saved the Rebellion. But they all died.”

Bodhi tilted his head, then shook it. “Not all,” he said, tapping his chest. “Not quite all.”

“But...If you fought with them, and survived, why does no one talk about you? You're a hero! You're the only reason that the New Republic even exists.”

He shook his head again. “No, no, that is because of Galen, because of Jyn. I was...just the pilot.” Osso stopped and opened a panel on the wall, the door sliding open. “Uh, here,” Bodhi said, gesturing to the room beyond. “This is yours.”

Rey paused, studying his face a moment, then went in. “Thank you, Bodhi.”

“Your BB-8 can call Osso when you're ready to eat,” he replied, then inclined his head and left her. 

Rey let the door close with a soft whoosh and sighed. What she wouldn’t give to be able to talk to Queen Maz right now. She stepped deeper into the room, taking in the living space with its soft cushions and hanging plants, the window taking up the entire wall and leading to a balcony overlooking the city. A bedroom with a welcoming bed stood off to the right. Rey wandered in, leaving BB-8 to explore the suite.

She ran a hand through her hair, then entered the refresher. Locking the door, she set her lightsaber on the counter, then removed the tattered remains of her yellow dress and held it in her hands for a long moment. Her eyes filled with tears and she hurled the dress at the mirror with a snarl. Collapsing against the counter, she sobbed, shoulders shaking. 

What she wouldn’t give for Maz.

For Kass.

For Finn.

She was supposed to be the Force Princess, the galaxy’s hope, the New Republic’s secret weapon, and she was nothing but a failure, a danger. She’d never wanted to enter this fight. She’d never dreamed she would have to. She wanted her home back, her sparring partners, her teachers, her friends, her Maz. She wanted life to be the way it had been.

It wasn’t.

It never would be.

Rey lifted her head, facing her reflection, the tears, the red-eyes, the tiny quiver in her lip. For a moment, she felt like a little girl again, rooting through the trash for things she could turn into useful gizmos, things that she could trade for food. A little girl who flinched at each shadow, who attacked bullies, but still ran from fights that she couldn’t win. She had been feisty, but skittish, alone. 

Perhaps that was what hurt so badly now. She was still alone.

But then she thought of Bodhi and the sacrifices he and his comrades had made to create the New Republic, of what Leia and the heroes of the rebellion had fought for. She thought of Finn risking his life to give her, to give the whole galaxy a fighting chance. Hux, Kass, even the stormtrooper. They had all sacrificed. For her. For the prodigy they expected her to be. The hero.

“I have to make this right,” she whispered, then straightened slowly, smoothing her hair back from her damp face, tightening her trembling jaw. 

She had to fight.


	14. To Rescue You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leia has a plan, several friends, some tricks up her sleeve, and a need to make things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my gosh I updated!! whaaaattt?? one benefit of me taking forever is that they keep making more movies, which means I can keep sneaking in some new faves. ;)

Leia felt on the verge of shouting at the whole war council or else putting them into a Force-induced coma. Perhaps it was her own fault, staying so composed even as she suffered through yet another tragedy. She always did. Not even the loss of Alderaan had brought her to tears. Not until after the first Death Star was destroyed, after the celebration, after everyone was thinking of what was next. Only then had she found a quiet moment in which to lose control for a moment, to crash to the floor and sob out all the fear and pain and loss that had built up in those few days that had forever altered her life. Comforting Luke over Obi Wan had been easier than feeling her own pain, then letting herself fully realize she’d been tortured--by her own father it turned out--that she’d lost her family, her people, her  _ planet.  _ Focusing on the mission, on the Death Star, on the war, it was all so much easier than feeling the stabbing pain from each lost fighter pilot as they struggled to bring down the Death Star on information that had cost them so much to gain.

It had been no different losing friends through the rest of the war, losing first Luke and then Ben, then Han, walking away and never looking back. Letting go of Poe. There didn’t seem to be an end to it, but she was at her limit. 

Finn was gone and these damn assholes were focusing on Darth Phasma, on that damn planet and the darkness it housed. That creature was trapped. And none of the First Order would be moving quickly now. They’d struck a blow. A hard blow. 

“Enough,” she said, softer than she expected to, but the council all trickled to silence. They looked at her, waiting for her insight, her command. She had none to give. She just wanted them to shut up for a minute. 

Before that realization could grow on them, the door irised open and BB-8 rolled in, followed by Princess Rey in a simple grey outfit, and behind her, Bodhi and his droid.

“We have to go after Finn!” Rey announced.

“Your Highness,” someone interjected, Leia didn’t notice who.

“He’s in danger because of me. We have to go after him,” Rey continued, her entire attention on Leia, not the council.

“The Sovereign One has him now,” Mon Mothma said gently, always good to give the cons of a situation even while pushing for them to go for it. “It would be difficult to mount a rescue.”

Leia glanced at her and raised an eyebrow, which Mon Mothma acknowledged with the tiniest of smiles. 

“Mon Mothma is right,” Casterfo said. “Phasma will be where the Sovereign One is. We don’t have the manpower of the resources to storm that fortress. As much as we want to.”

Leia tilted her head. “If a farmboy, an old man, and a smuggler can infiltrate the Death Star and stage a successful rescue, I like to think the New Republic can manage similar with twice that ability.”

“Leia, everyone knows the rescue of you only succeeded because you took it over,” Casterfo said. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Leia said, standing up. “I’ll be doing it again.”

Hubbub arose from the council. They hadn’t been pleased with Leia’s last wild adventure and half of this meeting was them telling her so. Mon Mothma and Casterfo did not look remotely surprised. And Ackbar was trying to seem disapproving, but his favorite thing about Leia had always been her general-on-the-frontline mentality. The rest though reminded her of her old droid C3PO, always fussing over protocol.

“Ackbar, Mon, Casterfo, with me,” Leia said, nodding to Rey and Bodhi so they knew to come too. “You too, BB-8.” She’d need Poe’s old droid most of all.

Then ignoring the protestations that followed them all out, Leia led her small band into her office. Padawan Hux waited there, pacing stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked up when he saw them, eyebrows raising at the sheer number of people entering. Leia shot him a look. 

“What? Do you think missions take three people and a droid?” She waved a hand dismissively and went to sit on the edge of her desk. “I don’t have enough chairs. Everyone fill in where you like. Sit on the floor, sit on a droid.” She winked at Bodhi as BB-8 beeped in a worried way, its head swiveling around, daring someone to sit on it. Osso let out a soft hiss of steam like a sigh and Bodhi patted its shoulder.

Hux snorted at the idea, coming to stand ramrod straight like a lifelong soldier, his eyes on Leia. Rey looked over the group uncertainly, touching her lightsaber for comfort. The three from the council settled in more comfortably, Mon Mothma and Ackbar sitting in the chairs, and Casterfo throwing up a hand and taking the floor. Leia almost smiled at that. 

“Master Finn has been taken captive by Darth Phasma,” she began. “Most of you know what that means.”

“I don’t,” Rey said immediately. “What will Phasma do to him?”

“We don’t know,” Leia said. “What we do know is her prisoners aren’t put with other First Order prisoners and not even the First Order sees them again. If they live, if they die, we don’t know.”

“Then we’re running out of time!” Rey exclaimed.

Leia held up a hand. “Phasma took him for a reason. We have more time than we think. Not much, but hopefully, enough.”

“Master Organa, what do you suggest?” Hux asked, a tiny swallow revealing his fear.

“We infiltrate their fortress, rescue Finn, and get out. Plans never survive first contact, so hopefully we’ll wreck as much havoc as possible on the return.”

Casterfo ran a hand over his hair. “That’s a stunningly vague plan.”

Leia looked at Bodhi and he nodded. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He’d done it before, decades ago. 

“We would need a ship,” he said. “I...I could fly it--”

“You don’t have to,” Leia said. “You’ve already given enough. And this isn’t for...this is for one person, Bodhi.”

“I’ll fly it,” he said, nodding firmly, and meeting her gaze.

Leia closed her eyes for a moment, then smiled gratefully and nodded in return. She’d never met a person braver than Bodhi Rook.

“Then I know how to get a ship.”

“You’ll need access codes,” Ackbar said, correctly guessing he was staying behind. She needed him here, with the fleet. “Or you’ll never get past a checkpoint.”

“I have them,” Leia said and her three advisors looked at her oddly. She’d never mentioned it to them, to anyone. Up until now there hadn’t been a good enough reason to use them. Not the codes she had. They were good to get one place and one place only: the Sovereign One’s fortress.

“And once we’re inside?” Rey asked. “I doubt either of us can walk through there undetected. Especially you, Leia. Phasma will sense us. Disguises won’t do any good.”

Leia sighed. “I know,” she said. “I have a plan for that. This isn’t my first rescue mission.”

“Luckily your plans go better than your brother’s. Huttslayer,” Casterfo murmured and Leia frowned at him. He wasn’t even supposed to know about that and he’d promised to keep it to himself. 

“Thank you, Ransolm,” she said, then folded her hands together. “If you’re volunteering to rescue Finn, do so now.”

“Yes,” Rey said firmly, followed by BB-8’s affirmative beeping. 

“Of course,” Hux said, looking almost offended she had to ask.

Bodhi didn’t volunteer again, but Leia knew he hadn’t retracted it.

Silence fell then, and after a moment Casterfo said, “Hold on wait, I’m a senator.”

“Didn’t stop you yesterday.”

He scowled, but he’d been in from the moment they heard Finn had been taken. “Gotta keep you from getting killed, I suppose.”

Leia exchanged an amused look with Mon. “You know where I’ll be,” Mon said with a regal nod. There had been no question of it.

“Exactly where I need you,” Leia replied. “Like you always are.”

“Just be careful.” Mon Mothma didn’t say it, but Leia could read it in her eyes:  _ I don’t think you’re ready for what you’re going to face. _

Mon was probably right, but Leia didn’t have a choice now. Something on that planet was awake now, and Phasma had touched it. What happened next, and how Finn served it, she could only guess, but it was time to move. The First Order had to be brought down.

“So where’s this ship?” Rey asked, ready as always to get started.

Leia truly smiled then. “It’s with an old friend.”

* * *

Dressed in incognito civilian clothes, Leia led her team through the spaceport in a nearby system. Rey wore the grey outfit she’d donned on Hosnian Prime though now with Finn’s robe over it. She had started to remove it when Leia saw, but Leia shook her head. 

“It suits you,” she said. “But Finn will want it back. He’s vain about his robes.”

Rey had smiled sadly. “It just felt right to keep them close.” She had swallowed. “Leia, I…”

“I know,” Leia had replied. They’d said what they needed to on the Falcon, and Rey didn’t need any more guilt on her now. She blamed herself enough.

Walking beside Leia now was Osso bearing Bodhi in pilot’s fatigues for the first time in a very long time. They didn’t bear any insignia or loyalty, but they made Bodhi smile. He was a damn good pilot, even still.

Hux and Casterfo had tried and failed at incognito, so Leia had ordered them into mercenary armors. Nothing flashy or likely to draw positive or negative attention. It had the added bonus of hiding their faces. Casterfo was a well-known senator and Hux one of a mere handful of true Jedi. 

Before they had landed, Hux had drawn Leia aside and begged her forgiveness. She’d told him there was nothing to forgive. It wasn’t his fault. All these young people, coming to her for forgiveness, when she was the one who should be asking them. She’d led them to these fates. 

He had looked like he wanted to say more, but she hadn’t let him. They all had enough to focus on. 

“This is one of your old friends, right?” Casterfo asked as they wove through the wide variety of ships parked in the spaceport, and dodged crates and people and cargo and droids. “Not like, Han’s?”

“Are you asking me if they’re a smuggler?” Leia asked.

“Well…”

“One of  _ my  _ old friends, yes. We were junior senators together.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Do I know them?”

“Your paths might have crossed,” Leia said as they rounded a corner and spotted a First Order command shuttle.

Panic ran over the group, but Leia only smiled, taking note of the tiny changes to the paint job here and there. It was a First Order ship alright, belonging to a high ranking officer too, but it hadn’t served them in a long time. 

Then she saw the woman striding down the ramp and grinned.

“Amilyn!”

Amilyn Holdo turned her head and smiled broadly, setting her hands on her hips. She was dressed for potentially rugged terrain in a turtleneck and cargo pants, with a dark purple coat swishing around her knees and a blaster swaying in an out of view. Her hair was cut short and dyed lilac, giving her an air of eccentricity that seemed at odds with her native planet. 

“Amilyn Holdo?” Casterfo repeated, incredulously.

“Who is she?” Rey asked.

Hux answered as Leia strode past them all, straight to Amilyn. “She was a senator during the Empire’s time, but she fed information to the rebellion.”

“She’s a smuggler,” Bodhi said to Casterfo. “The, the best.”

Amilyn crossed her hands in front of her until Leia came in range, then held them out to her. Leia took her hands and then tugged her in for a hug. 

“Your Highness,” Amilyn said.

“You lovely rascal,” Leia replied.

They pulled away and gazed fondly at one another. For a moment Leia’s heart felt light, just for a moment, but then the world pressed down again and her smile faded. Amilyn’s didn’t. 

She quirked an eyebrow and asked, “So what is this dangerous adventure you promised me?”

“An attack on his fortress,” Leia answered.

“His as in him?”

“That’s the one.”

Amilyn chuckled. “Bold. Extemporaneous. I love it. Well, I have your way in.”

“I thought you might. That’s why I promised dangerous adventure.”

“You know I love that.”

Leia had to smile at that. “And you can ruin the First Order’s day.”

Amilyn squeezed her hand. “Then we’d better get started. I can’t wait all day. I get lethargic.”

“Never a day in your life,” Leia scoffed.

Amilyn raised her eyebrows, then ushered Leia on board. “Let’s see, what do we have?” She pointed at Casterfo. “Yes, you, I know. And haven’t forgiven. Ah, Bodhi Rook! How are you, darling? Osso, a pleasure. Little B, hanging in there?” She waved them all on, one name at a time. “Huxy. It’s been an age. I like the beard.”

Amilyn stopped when she saw Rey. Then after a moment she said, “You’re Maz’s princess.”

“Have we met?” Rey asked.

“I don’t think so. You just feel like her. Come on. We’ve got some reckless careening through space to get to.”

“We’re rescuing Master Finn.”

Amilyn gripped Rey’s wrist. “Oh sweet girl. We are doing so much more.” She winked. “Now let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to @nightwing11 (i hope that's your handle; I'm lazy and don't wanna check) for your excellent reactions and advice and help. :) this fic would not have actually been written or posted or updated without you. 
> 
> And thank you to all of you, who are reading this monstrosity, and enjoying it, and keeping an eye out for updates. I am very grateful for your patience and support. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Tags and summary will probs change a lot as I figure out how Ao3 works. Not gonna lie, I haven't used it much before except as a super casual reader, so beg your pardon for noob mistakes and all that. I'm at least an experienced writer, so I got that going for me. And you. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Feel free to drop by my tumblr (floating-khoshek-floats.tumblr.com) for original work and some other fic stuff.


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